Unpromised
by Shan Jeniah
Summary: The story of two secondary characters, Kov and Koss, and the journeys they make, alone and together. This is a novel-length project posting daily (or as close as I can manage). It is my NaNoWriMo 2018 project, and will be only roughly edited at this time. This is about as hot-off-the-presses as can be! M/M; M/F. Kov and Koss started whispering to me a few years back. I
1. Whispers of Illogic

The scent wafted across the sand garden, at once overpowering and subtle. There was something in the paradoxical quality of it that reminded Kov of the water sculpture in the corner of the garden. He went there each dawn to meditate. He would not be able to explain the reasons for this if he were to be asked; there was a force beyond logic that dictated the decision that had become habit soon after he accepted employment here.

The scent had the same effect upon him. There was no logic Kov could discern in turning from the course that led to the water sculpture. And still he turned away, his jaw inclined and nostrils flared to allow him to better detect the scent upon the already warming air.

It seemed almost as though he should recognize it, but it remained an unknown – until he came to the place where a single figure was practicing the forms of what appeared to be the Suus Mahna.

The scent was coming from this male, or something else in his immediate vicinity.

Kov was behind the other; the light dawn breeze was blowing toward him, and he had made no sound that would lead to his discovery. He crossed his legs and sank to the ground. Perhaps it was a violation of the other's privacy to watch him so, but, if he was detected, he could claim he was meditating. It would be a mistruth, and mistruths were not logical. So had said his father Sivet, and so said Vulcan culture.

But there were more things than minor mistruths in Vulcan culture that Kov had cause to disagree with.

It was possible that the scent of this unknown male, intent upon his forms, was one of those things. It was certain that he desired to learn more, to understand the force that had brought him to this place, and to this man.

The man paused in his form, and turned, the lift of jaw and flare of nostrils clear as the terminus was crossed, and Eridani 40's light revealed him.

Kov's breath escaped his control and he exhaled with enough force that the other must have heard. Yes – he turned his focus directly to Kov's location. His face was aesthetically pleasing in a manner no other had ever been in the forty-six years of Kov's life.

Would he find Kov's presence intrusive? Would he leave? Would he be here again, or would he deem his privacy violated, and choose another location for his morning exercise?

The questions were not logical, as there was no way for him to know the answers at present. However, as Sivet frequently observed, Kov was not as concerned with the logic of any situation as most of his people. He was also possessed of "a deficit of patience," in his father's words.

The man's scent had drawn him here, as surely as T'Sia's brought nausea and a strong impulse to vomit.

Kov would understand why this was, when the scent of a Vulcan woman as she Awakened was held as the most delicately balanced, provocative scent known to their people.

The man simply stood, watching him. Kov didn't move. He had been seen. If he was to be believed to be meditating, he must not respond to the focused attention of the other. The sun was behind him; he would be nothing more than a silhouette at the rise of the sweep of sand.

Kov was intimately aware of the view from the place where the other stood. He had redesigned this garden and occupied every position within it.

The other stayed as he was for one point six two minutes, simply scenting the air. Then, slowly, he resumed his form, though he hadn't turned away.

Kov remained where he was, watching. The man moved in a practiced, precise manner. It was pleasing to watch, but there was something lacking which most Vulcans might not find wanting.

To Kov, however, the absence of passion was a detriment to the whole. Without a drive to perform the exercises, they had only the appearance of discipline. Like most of their people, it seemed this man did as he was expected to do, because he was expected to do it. A fit body was a fit tool, or another such philosophy. Perhaps he would disapprove of the higher ratio of fat on Kov's frame. He straightened, but there was no means to disguise his dislike of physical forms – yet another way in which Sivet found him a disappointment. It mattered not to his father that Kov led the crews who executed his landscaping plans, or that he took more exercise in that role than Sivet, whose occupation as a researcher confined him to his laboratory for the majority of each day.

The man finished his form, and Kov tensed, that scent still compelling him to stay though he was aware that he had likely breached the other's privacy, and the more logical course of action was not to further exacerbate the offense by remaining.

The other man walked up the rise. Kov waited. If he had caused offense, he would do what was needed to make restitution for his intrusion, but he would know more of this man whose scent was a question - or perhaps an answer he had not known he needed.

Certainly there was no logic in that thought.

"I am Koss." He stood at an acceptable distance, at an angle that allowed him to see Kov's face without the interference of Eridani 40's strengthening presence. "Was there something you required of me?"

Kov wanted to speak to the scent, and the questions it contained, but he was unable to find words to express the import of it. Instead, he said, "I was merely meditating."

"Mistruths are illogical," said the other. "More, they are a poor way to communicate. You were watching, and you are agitated." His nostrils flared, and he swallowed. "I ask forgiveness if my speaking to it causes offense, but it is clear in your mind – and in your scent."

His own scent had intensified, and Kov had difficulty resisting the urge to breathe in deeply, inhaling and impressing the specific qualities of the aroma in his mind for later remembrances. Surely such an action would be most unacceptable.

He would give the other his truth and learn where it might carry them.

"I was preparing to meditate, but I was drawn here by a scent I had never before encountered. It led me here, and I had no desire to interrupt your practice."

"Nor to leave." The other stated it without emotional overlay; his face was smooth and revealed nothing.

Kov knew not what he would have him say, but the words about mistruths suggested a logical course of action at last. "Nor to leave," he confirmed.

"Now we may truly begin." The other man settled himself on the sand ten paces away, allowing an angle that gave them both a certain amount of space, but also the opportunity to study one another. His gaze was direct.

"Begin?" Kov had never interacted with another who so confused his senses. It was more than the scent which seemed to pervade the air, and to move from his lungs to the tips of his fingers. They tingled with a strange heat. "What do you mean?"

"You are Kov."

"I am aware of that fact, nor do I find it relevant in answering my question."

"You are Kov, and I have –" the man paused, as though to measure the next words he would speak. "- desired to meet you."

Kov's breath released again; the inhale was full of Koss's scent, and he wondered if his mind was being affected by it – or by Koss himself. He had said that he felt Kov's interest in his mind, had he not? Kov knew little of the ways of the telepathic arts, but there were said to be clans and groups that still did, that followed other forms of Surak's teachings, despite the prohibitions against such practices, and the dangers of violating those prohibitions.

Was Koss a dissident?

Did that matter?

"You have desired to meet me?" The scent was stronger, as was the tingle in his fingers. It advanced, and brought an undefined urge to touch – what? The man sitting with him? Surely such a thing was inappropriate enough to be utterly beyond consideration.

"I have. Had you not come to this place, today, it was my intention to seek you out in your place of meditation when I completed my exercise." The other man – Koss – seemed to be studying Kov closely.

"For what purpose?" It was not a question he should ask; protocols suggested a more measured response. But Kov must know, must understand what it was that kept him here, speaking with this man who undid every assumption he made.

"For the purpose of informing you that your scent has become the moving force in my life. To inform you that I am – hungry – to know more of you, if that is a thing that would be – pleasing – to you."

Again the pauses, and a bearing that stated clearly that the man had considered the words carefully, and spoke them with intention. But what was that intention, and what did it mean for Kov?

"I don't understand," he said, honestly, as his fingertips quivered.

Koss tipped his head slightly, and very slowly raised paired fingers into the air. "Since I first scented you on the air six days ago, Kov, my fingertips long to touch yours. I wish to learn - whether a touch would be enough to satiate their yearning."

"I thought you without passion." He hadn't meant to speak the words. But they could not be unspoken. Koss had heard them. He would think of them what he would.

"That doesn't give answer to my fingers." They stayed there, the light of the sun emphasizing what they offered. But what was that, precisely?

"I don't understand."

"You speak mistruths again, Kov."

"No. I don't understand." But it was only a whisper.

"Perhaps you don't comprehend the whole. But your scent says that you understand enough. It says that you were drawn to me as I have been drawn to you. Tell me if you will, Kov: do your fingers tingle with the need to touch?"

"They tingle, Koss. I cannot say why. They have never done so before." Kov watched Koss's fingers as they lingered there. Was it only his imagining, that they quivered?

"Pair them to mine." Soft, so soft. "I beg you, pair them to mine, that we may learn what it means."

Kov studied those fingers, and then lifted his own. "I know not the way of this form of touching."

Koss exhaled, a long soft sigh. "If you will meet me here at the end of the day, I will lead you to a place where we might explore and learn together."

"Have you touched another so, Koss?" **Kov was uncertain why it should be of import, only that it meant a great deal to him that Koss had not.**

"I have touched no other. There is no other I desire to touch. If you will not, then my fingers will remain – unsated."

Strange, the things he said. Stranger still, the way they settled into Kov's imaginings. He had long tried to imagine the reality that he would one day be married to T'Sia, that he would pass the Burning with her. But such imaginings seemed beyond him, and he had never spoken of it to Sivet or any other, because to be a Vulcan and yet to imagine one's future was surely an illogical act.

But the thought of Koss's fingers wanting the sating of his own – that was a thing that set his imagination aflame.

No. He would not think on it. Certainly not here, and not now.

"Kov?" Just the single syllable of his name, but spoken in a way that no other had ever spoken it. In that moment, the shadow of a silverbird passed over Koss's form.

Kov shuddered. It was illogical to ascribe any meaning to such a convergence of events. However, he was not known for his logic.

"I will meet you here, Koss. For the sake of our hungering fingers, I will meet you."

The other man nodded, as though it was the most logical of statements. "Then let it be as the crossing of the terminus occurs. T'Khut will be full tonight, and there is a place from which we may watch the Watcher safely, and unseen." He rose; he was considerably taller than Kov, and solid rather than slender. "Until then, Kov, my fingers will long for the touch of yours." He said it in the manner of the formal greeting.

"And mine for yours." Kov attempted an echoing tone, but his voice trembled, and he dared not stand, not until he could be certain Koss would not see his lack of balance.

Koss nodded and turned away, angling across the dune toward a building hidden in the next depression, sheltered by rises of sand on all sides. If that was his place of employment, it marked him an architect.

Kov rose and stood for a moment just looking at the sand garden. He had designed it, and he knew it with the intimacy of one who was deeply involved in the execution of his designs. And yet, now, it seemed an alien landscape, changed by the fact of Koss' hungry fingers – and his own.


	2. At the Science Academy

The work of the day was both welcome and burdensome. Kov knew the paradox was illogical. _Kaiidth_. What is, is. He would not attempt to analyze how the same thing could be both. It simply was.

He was across Shi'Kahr from the sand garden where he had first scented the man named Koss. A new housing facility was being erected at the Science Academy, and he was to assess the design and create outdoor and courtyard spaces that would complement the structure's architecture. Additionally, the results must both have a character unique from all other such spaces on the grounds, and yet present a cohesive and harmonious whole.

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations." He said the phrase softly, aware that his habit of repeating phrases he wished to incorporate into his work sometimes drew unwanted attention from others. Vulcans were a species inclined to keep thoughts to themselves unless there was some logical reason to share them.

It was not often seen as sufficiently logical that stating the philosophy for a project as he walked the area it was to occupy assisted him to visualize what the space could become.

There was no one else in this area. Kov was certain that the relief and pleasure he felt were quite illogical, yet he didn't care. "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations." He stood first facing the building, then away, walking a few steps, turning, walking again, and repeating the phrase.

He began to see the shape of it. The space could take on the characteristics of an IDIC. It must not be clearly defined but must also not be so obscure that those who came to take pleasure or meditation or study here would not feel the philosophy echoed in every line and step.

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations."

"It is illogical to speak so, Kov. You converse with no one, yet you disturb the work of those within."

He managed to suppress the urge to startle, and instead turned smoothly to face the speaker with a single word. "Father."

Sivet merely inclined his head a fraction, but his tall, slender frame projected his tension. Perhaps not to strangers, but Kov had once known that tension to escalate into a dangerous rage, and he was wary. It seemed Sivet was always tense when they interacted. It had ever been so, from the time that Kov could remember. Perhaps there was a mercy in the distance between them, and the long silences that often stretched over months.

"Have you come to speak with me? I have research to attend."

Always, Sivet provided a reason he could not stay. Logical. No sense building the false expectation that they could be anything other than strangers who shared a questionable amount of genetic coding.

"I come on business, Sivet. Nothing more." By using the proper form of address, rather than a family appellation, Kov released his father to his own work. Sivet said no more; perhaps some fathers would inquire as to the nature of his business, but Kov's did not. He turned and walked back to the entrance of the building. Kov sighed softly, and went about his work, silently now, lest he bring a stronger rebuke from the man who had sired him.

When he was a child, it had created powerful emotions to have Sivet always preferring to be elsewhere than he was. Now, he welcomed it. He would not have his father see any trace of his conversation with the man Koss or know how his fingers had trembled to touch Koss'. Certainly, he would not wish Sivet to know how eagerly he anticipated the meeting yet to come, when Koss would take him to a place where they could touch and explore the effects of the touching.

Yes. He could employ IDIC in the overall design. Curving sweeps and straight lines; the circle and the triangle. Differing textures – sand and plantings, water and stone. Sudden bursts of life and color in spaces that seemed barren. Paths that traced the pattern of the symbol. Resting places and places for activities, both in solitude and in groups.

He never created designs while he walked the space. He carried not so much as a hand scanner; the devices and other tasks affected the clarity of his first vision. There were those, including Sivet, who called such practices illogical and inefficient. He would have to walk the space again, to take its measure and assure himself that the design would fit within the space allotted to it.

Kov would do nothing to correct them. However, he understood that this was a necessary step for him. More, he took his own pleasure in walking the grounds of a new project; he always found a peace that surpassed meditation in it. In that peace, he best came to know the space, and, in knowing it, learned what would be needed to achieve the result the client desired.

He walked for several hours, to assess the light and shadows, the prevalent direction of the wind, the flow of people who crossed this space. It was possible to look for any and all of this information in public records, but nothing but his own observations could lead him to understand the feel of the facts, and how they translated into the shape of the space he would create.

Eridani 40 was well past zenith when he entered the office he had been assigned during his time at the Academy – and was assailed by a scent he could never forget. "Koss!"

The subject of his overly emotional reaction straightened from a terminal he'd been accessing. "Kov?" His voice was calm, and one brow arched fractionally. It was such a controlled reaction that Kov began to wonder if he had misunderstood their previous interaction. "I didn't expect I would see you before our appointment this evening."

Appointment. Perhaps he had misunderstood. He took two steps nearer, uncertain how to respond. Finally, the obvious truth occurred. "Nor I you. I was assigned to this workspace."

"So was I." Koss paused, then added, "Perhaps it would be logical for one of us to request another assignment."

"You do not wish to share workspace with me?" Kov was growing more and more certain that he'd misunderstood the earlier interaction.

"It is not that I don't wish to share workspace with you, Kov." Koss breathed deeply, inclining his head and flaring his nostrils as he had that morning. "It is that I wish to share a great many things with you, and that desire may cause a significant loss of efficiency in my work."

"I don't understand."

"Another lie, Kov. Perhaps there will be a time when you will trust me enough to speak only that which is true. I believe you understand well enough. I am an architect. It is considerably more difficult to complete my work when my fingers are trembling for the touch of yours."

"Would it truly be better for you to be in another workspace, knowing I am near?" Kov studied Koss, but he didn't know the other man well enough to read the subtle shifts in posture and facial expression. Perhaps, he might learn Koss the way he had learned the space he was to design, if he could spend enough time in close proximity to the other man.

"Perhaps not." Now it was Koss who took a step nearer. "To know you were here, and not to be able to taste your scent – " He said no more, but his color and scent shifted, and the change made Kov bold.

"Have you a Promised, Koss?"

"A Promised?" Was it wariness that shifted the architect's tone, or something else?

"Yes. I have. Her name is T'Sia." Perhaps that was the best approach, to speak first to his own Promising. "Her mother and mine were close associates. We have grown together almost as siblings. She is my closest associate. Have you a Promised, Koss?"

"I have. T'Pol. My parents and her mother know each other through her mother's brother, with whom they work. I have met her only twice. She works for the Ministry of Security, and is often offworld."

"T'Pol?" Could it be the same?

"Yes. T'Pol. The infant who dared to touch the flame. Perhaps, in her choice of occupation, she chooses it still."

Kov had heard the story. All children of their generation had. It had been given as a cautionary lesson. She had been instructed, as all infants are instructed, not to touch the flame of the meditation candle as she was held upon her mother's lap – a Vulcan infant's first exposure to meditation. For nearly all infants, it was enough to be told that the flame could cause pain and harm.

But not for T'Pol. It was said that she had thrust her hand into the flame, silently and that when her mother had smelled the burning of her flesh , she had fought to keep it there. There was no logic in it. It was further said that she bore the scars of the incident still, and would not have them removed, but Kov had always found that unlikely.

Until now.

"Perhaps, Kov, there are reasons for such actions."

Koss stepped nearer again. "Until I scented you, I would not have thought so. Now, I believe I begin to understand what might have motivated her." A pause, then, Koss added, "Why would you wish to learn of my Promised?"

Kov considered. "I am uncertain I possess the means to express my reasons." Perhaps it wasn't entirely true, but it was as near as he could come, in this moment.

"That answer was marginally true but lacking in substance. I am curious, Kov, and will ask of you a personal question, if you will allow it." Koss' expression was intent; the same cast of face Sivet wore when occupied with challenging research.

"I will allow it." He wouldn't choose to deny Koss, though he might find illogical pleasure in thwarting Sivet.

"What purpose is there to your concealment of yourself?"

Kov had not expected such a question. He shifted his gaze to the empty terminal and work surface not occupied by Koss. It would be sufficient to his needs. Perhaps, though, Koss' suggestion that one of them move might be quite logical.

"Kov? Will you not answer?"

"I have no answer to give you, Koss. Kaiidth. I am as I am. What matter how I came to be so?" He didn't look at his questioner.

"It matters to me." Again that gentle whisper. That tone was too powerful to resist further, and Kov looked at his companion to see concern expressed clearly in his eyes.

"Why?" He wondered why he was asking. It would only encourage the conversation, and the probing into parts of his life he chose not to examine. But something in the reaction of the other man seemed to demand nothing less of him.

"I have no wish to cause you harm, and I will happily assist you to greater peace, if I am able."

"Happily?" The word wasn't Vulcan, and Kov had no understanding of it.

"Happily. It is a Terran word, intended to convey a positive emotional state. It is most imprecise, as many Terran words are, specifically as regards emotions. However, in this instance, I believe it is appropriate. I will happily assist you in finding greater peace, Kov."

Kov thought it best to set aside the matter of his personal peace. "How do you come to know Terran words?"

Koss' raised brow indicated that he had not missed Kov's shift of topic. "T'Pol is fluent in three Terran languages. I have made a study of the most prevalent of these – the English of the former Americas – as a means to honor her. When we marry, we will be able to converse in this language."

"Have you learned this – this English of the former Americas – happily, Koss?"

"You are asking something other than your words reveal, Kov. I will not answer when I don't understand what you seek to learn. I will give no false impression."

"I am uncertain I would undertake such an endeavor to honor T'Sia." It was not precisely what he meant, but he could come no closer.

"Perhaps it is that you are already close associates, Kov. When you marry, you will know your wife, and how to ease her living. I know little of T'Pol, beyond the stories of her infancy and what I am able to learn through records of her work. I met her at our Promising, and she came to see me shortly before she completed her studies here, to inform me that she was accepting a posting with the Ministry of Security, and would seek an offworld assignment when she was qualified to do so. I have spoken to her only three times, since, via recording. Our communications are – surface. They touch nothing beyond what is required. I know that she is accomplished in her posting, and that she is aesthetically pleasing. But I know nothing of who she is, beyond that she chooses to be away from Vulcan. When we marry, she will be required to remain for a year. I do not wish that year to be more difficult for her than it must be. I will therefore attempt to ensure her happiness in every way I am able."

"And when the year of Seclusion has ended?"

"She will be free to return to her life as she has lived it, if that is what she chooses. I have no desire to require that of her which she is unable or unwilling to give."

Kov wanted to ask more, to ask if Koss had any doubts about the wisdom of marrying such a woman, but such personal questions were inappropriate for a professional setting. Already, Koss had honored him with far more information than he had right to.

But Kov's fingers quivered, and Koss' nostrils were still flared, and these things suggested that there might be reasons for them both to consider carefully whether fulfilling their marriage contracts was the most logical approach.

"I must return to my work, if I am to be free to honor our appointment this evening," Koss said, as though he could follow Kov's thoughts, and would prevent the asking of any further unsettling questions. "I will leave you to arranging your workspace. When will you be prepared to review my designs?"

Kov inhaled, held the breath, then released. The act was intended to be calming, but his lungs were filled with Koss' scent. "If you will send them to this terminal, I will review them now. It is essential that I understand the structures before I commit to my design for the landscape."

There was both comfort and disappointment in returning to work. Kov put that aside, to consider later, when he was alone in the home he shared with Sivet, and began to study Koss' designs, with the promise of their appointment to ease the transition. There was also Koss, solid and present on the other side of the small chamber, nearly close enough to touch. There was a pleasure in watching the other man at his work, and Kov decided that this made him, as the Terrans might say, "happy."


	3. Scenting

It's been a lot longer than I anticipated since I posted here. On the plus side, my house has a new roof, and my kids and I no longer live in a sieve. =) Also, I have over 51,000 words of this story written, and I can honestly say it's been one surprise after another!

So here at long last is Chapter 3, roughly revised, but pretty much as it rolled out of my brain and into the hard drive! 

* * *

Kov waited by the water feature, seated with his legs crossed and eyes closed. To any casual observer, he might seem to be meditating, and so none would disturb him. In truth, he was longing for the scent that had already become more familiar than that of Sivet his father, and more treasured than that of T'Sia his Promised.

He was scenting the air for Koss. Even the anticipation of it brought the tingling longing into his fingertips, spreading upward to his second knuckles as though making demands he didn't fully understand. The yearning to touch was not one he had felt before, and with it came a – restlessness?

That was not precisely what he was feeling, however. He wished less to move, and more to be - open? He was aware, waiting, readying himself for something for which he had no name, beyond the one now filling his awareness…

Koss.

He had pointed out to the other that there was little logic in coming here separately when they shared office space, and would for the next several cycles, at the least. However, Koss had been firm. "It would be unseemly for us to be seen leaving so, in one another's company."

"I'm not concerned with what is unseemly, and it is no one's concern but our own."

"And Sivet your father?" Until that moment, Kov hadn't known that Koss was aware of any portion of his lineage. It implied that the other man had researched it, which was – unsettling, but also perhaps a point of pride, that he could so draw Koss' attention even before he was aware of the other's existence.

"Sivet has seldom found anything in my bearing or my behavior he deems satisfactory." This was truth, unblemished by any impulse to hide the facts. "If this becomes one more instance where I have 'failed to meet his logical expectations for me', it is no concern of mine."

Koss had nodded, then dipped his head. It was the first time Kov suspected that he, too, might have things in his living that he would prefer to keep hidden. "While the reasons I gave were valid in my mind, Kov, I have another I would have chosen not to express. Will you hear it, and consider its merit?"

His coloring shifted to the burnished flush once more; Kov found it appealing enough that he was unlikely to refuse any request he could honor. But perhaps it was best he not reveal so much to Koss, and so quickly. "I will listen, and consider," he said, in a tone even Sivet would have difficulty finding fault with.

"My reason is this: I wish to come to you by the water feature where first I scented you. Then, I was unprepared for the effect of your scent upon me; I was unable to come to you as I longed to do. Let this then stand for that day, and for what I would have done, if I had been able. Let it stand for a first meeting well made, and one perhaps we will both hold as cherished in our memories."

Kov had had no immediate answer for such a reason. He said only, "I will meet you at the water feature, Koss, as we arranged." After a few deep breaths filled with the scent of this man, intensified by the emotions beneath his surface calm, he added, "It will be my honor to meet you there. I will go and await you."

Then he had hurried off in a manner that was certainly unseemly, because the last was perhaps too close to the words meant to be spoken to one's Promised when arranging to meet for koon-u-kal-if-fee. Why had he spoken them to Koss?

What would the other man think of him speaking so? He had left without looking at Koss' face, because he feared what he would find there.

What if Koss did not come?

How long would he wait, to learn that he had said too much, and given the architect reason to choose not to see where this urge to touch might lead them?

The terminus was near now; Eridani 40 appeared to be resting atop the dune which sheltered this location. Within moments, the time Koss had set would pass.

Would he come?

"Such questions are illogical, Kov. Either he will come, or he will not, and the knowing is too near to trouble with speculations for which you have no evidence upon which to base a theory. Kaiidth. What is, is. What will be, will be. Your agitation is pointless."

That is what Sivet would say. He had said the same, in nearly the same words, many times, when Kov was beset by concern for results that could not be predicted with any degree of assurance. Sivet was a scientist, and logic seemed to be the only factor in his life.

Sometimes, after such an interaction, Kov wondered whether he was truly Sivet's son, or if perhaps he had been adopted from another family. Such were the differences between them, that it seemed unlikely that Sivet had ever Burned for anyone, or been willing to give his control surcease even long enough to complete his biological role in the conception of an offspring.

He had, of course, never mentioned any of these doubts to Sivet. If he had, it was probable that his father would show him detailed research notes on every aspect of his conception.

Kov was not prepared to learn those details.

Nor was he prepared for what was to come. Whether Koss arrived as planned, or not, he didn't know what to expect. Perhaps it was the uncertainty that led his thoughts down such strange pathways.

Sivet would argue the word "pathways" if he could hear Kov's thoughts. He believed in precision in all things – even the thoughts of a man waiting for something that might not happen, and which was highly unspecified in nature.

The wind, which had been blowing lightly at his back, shifted, and Kov caught the first hint of Koss in the air. His respiratory and circulatory rates accelerated. He began to compensate, then ceased those efforts in the next shortened breath.

Kaiidth. What is, is. Let it be as it would between them. There was no other here. Their people were largely beings of custom and habit; no others came to this place at this time, so there was no reason to expect that any would this evening.

He would allow himself to respond to Koss as his body and mind would, and he would do nothing to mitigate the sensations or responses when there was no other to see, beyond Koss himself.

It was another two point six one minutes before Koss crested the dune, Eridani falling behind him. His robes lifted in the breeze, creating an appealing silhouette. For all the time he had lingered in this place, allowing the design of the hollowed space to grow within him, he had never considered the effect of a person standing at that crest, as Koss was doing now, with his head high.

He was scenting Kov.

Kov's heart rate accelerated to the point where he began to feel faint and as though his legs might not be capable of supporting his weight, were he to rise. Koss stood, the sun vanishing behind him, still as a sculpture at the crest of the dune, and Kov wondered how long he might remain there, how long he must wait here below, as though he was at peace, when all within him was surging upward, up the hill to the man above.

His fingers quivered into his hands, sending him urgent messages he didn't fully understand, but could not ignore, he suspected, even should he choose to make the attempt.

They were going to touch their fingertips together.

And Kov was certain something was going to happen. He didn't know what, precisely, and it seemed that Koss didn't, either. But there was a knowing within him that, once the other descended, and they allowed the touch, nothing would be the same again.


	4. Seeking Another Path

Koss held for another moment. It was illogical to perceive that brief span of time as an eternity. No Vulcan could experience eternity, and Eridani 40 had only become slightly less visible.

But to Kov's accelerated blood and breath, and to his quivering hands, it seemed so, and no logic he knew of erased their certainty that an eternity had in fact passed while he waited for Koss to come to him. He was certain that he would remember it so ever after – that Koss had waited an eternity at the crest of the dune, and Kov himself had waited below, aching in every cell of his being to go to the other man, but holding himself as still as though he was in deep meditation, despite the speed of his heart and breath that made him feel faint.

Finally, a lifetime later, Koss began to move. At first, his pace was measured, as any Vulcan would be in a public place. However, as he descended, he didn't compensate for the slope by moderating his speed, so that by the time he reached the water sculpture he was nearly running, and had need to use his outstretched arms for balance. Had anyone else approached, they might have assumed some manner of danger or emergency below, such was the haste with which Koss came to him.

He ended in a skidding stop, using the sculpture's slippery curving side to arrest his forward momentum, and nearly falling as his hands lost purchase on the metal surface, cool from the sheltering shade of the late evening.

Kov found that he knew not what to do next. He had only considered whether Koss would come, and how long he should wait if the other didn't, and the mystery of the promised touch, and how Sivet might respond to his thoughts on these other matters, if he could know what Kov thought on as he waited.

Perhaps that had been foolish, for now they were here, together, and there were no words in his mind to use in greeting. The formal acknowledgments felt inappropriate, even without the anticipated connection to come. They had, after all, been working in the same chamber an hour ago.

"You are here." Koss' voice still seemed compromised by the effort at regaining control of his breath. There was something in the quality of it that moved Kov in ways he didn't understand, and which sent the quiver in his hands further, into his wrists, and on to his forearms. Would all of him quiver for Koss' touch, by the time he received it?

"As are you." His own voice trembled much as his hands did, and Koss drew breath in sharply – was it in response to that, or something other?

For another long moment, there seemed to be nothing either of them would say, no action either would take, until Kov could bear the silence between them no longer.

"I want the touch of your fingers, Koss."

Another quick gasp of breath. Was it the recovery from the descent, or a response to his words? "Is that all you desire of me, Kov?"

"All?" He hadn't considered whether there could be more. The mystery of what the touch would contain was too great in his mind. It left little room for other thoughts. "What more is there?"

"Perhaps that is a thing we shall discover between us – but not in this place. I know a location where we will not be disturbed and will have privacy for as long as we desire it, for whatever sharing this touch leads us to. Will you trust me, and accompany me, Kov?"

His companion stretched the same paired fingers toward him, the ones he had lifted this morning. He was not near enough for touch, but Kov lifted his fingers and matched the gesture, though he had not known he intended to do so until the action was complete.

Their fingers hovered, paces away from touch, and Koss' trembled just as Kov's did.

There was some message in the trembling. Kov felt it, but not what it meant – any more than he knew the meaning of the way Koss' scent drew him, or his own drew Kov.

He did not comprehend, but he longed to. He determined that he would do whatever he must to find out what it meant, this quivering urge to touch, this undeniable attractive force in the other man's scent.

"I will go where you lead me, Koss. I would not do so if I didn't trust you. Let us learn – together." He paused, to attempt at last to control heart and breathing rates. "However, I may need a moment. I am – uncertain – of my ability to stand and walk."

It was a difficult truth to reveal. Life with Sivet had conditioned him to attempt to conceal his weaknesses rather than state them outright.

But Koss took no advantage. "Is it I who have caused this lack of ability?" His voice was the soft whisper again.

"That seems the most likely conclusion. I was well when I arrived, but upon scenting you, my circulatory and respiratory rates accelerated precipitously. I can think of no other likely cause for such a physiological response."

"Then I am honored to await you, as you have awaited me. The space is prepared for us. Lastmeal is ready, when we wish it, and we will be received in comfort. Be at ease, Kov. There is no need for haste."

"My fingers do not believe you, Koss. They say there is much need for haste, and to be away. I will find my balance, for their sake, because they will hasten, and will not wait."

"My fingers are in agreement with yours. It is not logical, but it is nonetheless true. If you need support to find your balance, I offer that to you – however, I am altogether uncertain what such a level of touch between us, so soon, would result in. So perhaps it is best if we assure ourselves that you are fit to travel, before we begin, even if it means a delay for our fingers."

"Would you think me illogical to say that I wouldn't object to learning where it would lead, Koss?"

The other's face shifted into an openness he hadn't revealed to Kov until this moment. "I might think you illogical, Kov – but there would be no offense intended by it. I would also think that you are becoming more honest with me, which implies that you are indeed beginning to trust me. For this I am grateful, and will accept whatever illogic you bring with pleasure. More – if I am to be honest with you, I must tell you that I wouldn't object to learning what such touches would bring. However, it is my understanding that to begin with the ouz'hesta is to enhance all future touching, and that the longer the ouz'hesta remains the only form, the more intensity there will be in what follows."

"And you would choose intensity." Kov used the base of the sculpture, which rose from the sand in a curving sweep that was a precise balance for the sweep of the dune, but at right angles to it, to lever himself up. His legs held more steadily than he had feared they might, and Koss's acceptance seemed to have assisted greatly in returning breathing and heart rate to something approaching their typical levels.

"I would choose intensity, Kov, if I am choosing to experience it with you." Koss' eyes seemed almost to glow in the fading light of Eridani 40.

"Then let us go to the place you have prepared for us, so that we may begin to build this intensity." Kov wondered at his own certainty, and his willingness to entrust himself to this man who was still more a stranger than anything else, and whose motivations he could not begin to presume.

And yet he trusted Koss, and was eager to go with him. He knew in some way that was far deeper than logic that he had nothing to fear from Koss, and perhaps more to gain than he could imagine at present.

"I believe my legs will hold." He straightened cautiously and avoided breathing Koss' scent in too deeply. He could not know that it had been the catalyst for his weakness, but it seemed the most logical cause. He would therefore breathe carefully, until they were alone in the safe place Koss had prepared for their explorations. Once settled there, he intended to breath Koss in deeply for as long as he was able to, and to savor the scent's memory in the time until they both returned to their work chamber tomorrow.

"Then let us go. It is not far." Koss led the way, not back toward the compound where they both were employed, but toward the edge of the sand garden that led into the Shir'Kahr desert.

"You mean us to travel across the desert when the Watcher is at full?" There were many dangers that awaited such times for their hunting; it would not be safe to traverse this path once T'Khut was visible above the horizon. At the rate Eridani was sinking out of sight, it would be only two hours, and the nearest lodging houses were further, unless Koss meant for them to take the shuttle.

"We will be settled long before she has shown her face in full." It was a strange phrasing, and he uttered it in the ancient patterns. "This is a place known only to a few, but to those of us who know it, it provides safe shelter against sandfires, le-matya, sehlat, groundvines, and all other known dangers. More, it is an excellent location from which to observe the Watcher, who is said to look favorably upon explorations such as that which we will undertake this night."

Kov found the explanation unsettling, but not unduly so. He had long been interested in those who existed outside the strictly logical parameters of the life Sivet had created for his son. Perhaps that curiosity is what had led him to landscape design, a field that by its nature incorporated a deeper awareness than logic alone could accommodate.

"You are quiet, Kov. Have my words distressed you? Do you wish to turn back?"

"I wish to continue, Koss. I am merely – unsettled. However, I also anticipate an unexpected experience with someone who – " He stopped to seek the most precise word. "Intrigues me."

"I will see well to your comfort, Kov, and nothing will happen between us that you do not wish. I have a strong desire to touch and discover with you, but none to force upon you any activity you don't freely choose."

Kov breathed in the scent of this fascinating man and relaxed his personal boundaries. He would allow the experience to be as the experience would. Kaiidth. What would be, would be.

He set himself to walking, to allowing himself to feel Koss, scent him. They didn't speak; it seemed the time to speak had been long already, between the conversation at dawning, the time spent together in their joint office, and the time just past at the water sculpture. This was a time to simply be with one another, to walk in harmony, to breathe one another in and feel the anticipation and the quiver that was rising up through his arms, building into something that felt like the Promising made between he and T'Sia when they were seven, and he had not yet felt the aversion to her arousal scent, or to the thought of being her husband and having her as wife.

Was this touch he was planning to share with Koss perhaps an answer to that aversion? Nothing they had said thus far addressed the possibility, and yet it was there in every breath, every step, every moment.

They were seeking another path, together.


	5. Into the Passage

Koss led them forward until just after the top edge of Eridani 40 became invisible. Then he left the path where it ran alongside a cleft between two steep rock walls. "If you would turn back, Kov, this is the time. Any later, and T'Khut will be rising, and it will be unsafe."

"I will not turn back." Kov was somewhat surprised at his voice; it sounded stronger and more decisive than he could remember ever sounding. Certainly, he'd never been so with Sivet his father. "I wish to explore touch with you, Koss, and I will go where you lead."

"Then come. We are close." Koss gestured into the cleft. It was slightly narrower than Kov was comfortable with – he was not a slender man, and he had a minor concern of getting caught and unable to move forward.

"You are not the largest person to pass this way, Kov." Koss waited at the entrance. Only now did Kov realize that the other man's shoulders were perhaps wider than his own. "I myself have entered this passage weekly for the past twenty-six years and have never had a difficulty."

"I will enter the passage, Koss."

Koss nodded slightly, and moved into the passage. Kov followed. The rock walls closed in around them, but, as Koss had said, there was ample room. After three turnings, the passage widened into a chamber. From a hole far above, there was light, and fresh air. Kov relaxed, though he hadn't realized that he'd been tensed.

"We will rest here for a time, Kov, and take water and nourishment, for what we will explore will no doubt require great amounts of energy. Then we will go to my chamber, and we will not be disturbed there, for as long as we choose to remain. Later, if you wish it, we will have the freedom to visit with the others who are sheltering here."

"What is the purpose of this place?" Kov had the sense of something of import here. He recalled his initial thought that Koss might be a dissident. Had he been correct? There had been little in their conversation that had suggested he would know a place such as this.

"It is a place for exploration, rest, renewal, meditation – or whatever else those who come here choose. It is a place for IDIC. It is open to all who learn of it through another who knows it. Now that you have come here, you are free to do so again, whether with me, with another, or alone."

That didn't truly answer Kov's query – or perhaps it did, and he just failed to understand. He chose to set his curiosity aside, at least as regards the purpose of this shelter. Perhaps he would learn more of it in time. What was of importance now was what he and Koss would share this night.

Instead of pursuing the topic, he watched Koss as he moved to an alcove that had been fitted with shelves stocked with stone jars. "The sustenance here is simple, but satisfying, and it will provide the nutrition we need, as well as a time of rest before we retire to our explorations." 


	6. Before We Touch

**Author's Note:**

 **NaNoWriMo is over, and I finished with almost 56,000 words to this story, which is still going strong and in totally unexpected directions.**

 **Some of the upcoming scenes get rather descriptive about private moments. I'm not sure yet whether I will share these as-is,or adapt. Revising and posting may slow down a little,as I move on to other projects and more home repairs.**

* * *

Koss' chamber was small, with only space for the raised sleeping platform with a mat neatly rolled upon it, an alcove with two small shelves, where books, a simple clay water service, and a statue of Surak resided, two hooks which held traditional robes that appeared to carry Koss' family sigil, and a low table which held a single meditation candle and an open box containing an ignition device. The walls were the simple, natural redstone of the cave, but there was an opening above, and one in the wall beside the sleeping platform, and Kov could see that T'Khut was now visible in a thin but swiftly growing wedge.

"Please, be at ease, Kov. If you will, you may think of this chamber as equally your own." Koss went to the shelf and took up the pitcher without comment. In a space so small, there would be little way for him to do so without Kov seeing what he was about, but in not mentioning it, he honored the intent of the ceremony, if not the precise form.

Kov would therefore make no mention of it, that Koss could prepare as he would. The tingling warmth was spreading into his shoulders now, and he wondered how much longer he must wait before the time came when they might begin to learn together where it might carry them.

Koss stepped through the opening beside the sleeping platform – it was nominally large enough to allow him to do this if he bent low.

Kov was left alone in the intimacy of another's sleeping chamber. He had been invited to be at his ease.

But how could he be, when he quivered so for the touch of another? When he was certain that this night would bring a knowledge there could be no turning away from?

His gaze scanned the space. The candle was unlit, and he had a desire to see Koss' face lit by firelight. He knelt and tended to the matter. Perhaps he should meditate, to attempt again to ease this trembling hunger for Koss' touch. But the shelf with its small assortment of books drew him; he would learn what Koss chose in his reading material. Perhaps that would answer some of the questions he had about the man. He would not be able to do so when Koss returned, for the water service was there, and already in direct sight of the meditation area where he planned to await their exploration of touch.

Kov touched the books lightly with paired fingers and eyes closed, illogically enjoying the knowledge that Koss had touched these same volumes, held them in his hands, perhaps even drawn wisdom or peace from them. Only when he had touched each in this manner did he pull one from the shelf and hold it in his own hands.

He opened his eyes. It was too shadowed to read, so he carried the book to the meditation area and settled upon the floor there. But he didn't open the volume. Koss had invited him to be at his ease and to treat this space as his own – but to read from the other man's book seemed an intimacy too deep even for this openness. He would ask Koss when the other returned. It might serve also to provide the time needed to return the pitcher to its place and complete what was needful in the preparations for the ceremony Kov assumed would lead to the promised touch.

He placed the book on the table before him, to make it apparent to Koss that he would not open it without permission, that he would not violate the other's privacy.

His gaze went to the sleeping platform. There was no second mat, and the space was limited. He wondered if Koss would bring a second mat, or if another chamber had been secured for Kov's use.

Perhaps he intended for them to share this single mat. What would it be, to sleep so near to another? To breathe the same air, and to have Koss' scent filling his lungs throughout the night?

It was too much to imagine.

Kov stared instead into the candle, seeking the peace of meditation there. But it eluded him as it had earlier, at the water sculpture. The tingling was spreading now from shoulders and into his chest, seeming to radiate outward and intensify with each breath. Koss' scent was layered through this chamber in a manner that suggested he came here often and remained for some time.

The breeze shifted, blowing in through the opening Koss had stepped through with the pitcher. It carried a faint but fresh trace of Koss' scent – Koss, and fresh, cold water which contained minerals. Perhaps, another time, Kov might have made an exercise of attempting to identify them, but now the scent of the other man made focusing on any other – even the scent of water – impossible. He opened his mouth slightly to allow the scent to come to his tongue, where he could taste it.

He longed for Koss with an intensity and urgency that outweighed even the natural drive to locate and secure water sources necessary for life on this harsh and arid world.

Perhaps this drive for another man was proof that Kov had developed some imbalance that affected his mind or his physiology. Perhaps he should leave here at once and seek the services of a healer trained in such disordered thinking, and the means of restoring a proper structure.

But he could not do so while T'Khut was full and gaining visibility. Perhaps there was a healer in residence or visiting this location; to provide such a service was logical. However, he could make no assumptions of the logic of those who would come to such a place at such a time.

There was no logic whatever in thinking mistruths to himself. Even if there were a healer in every other chamber in this compound, Kov would not seek out their assistance. No. He would remain here, and taste Koss' scent as it gained strength upon his tongue, and he would learn what it was to touch the other man, to join their fingers. Perhaps, to sleep together beneath T'Khut's reddened light, with the Watcher to bear witness to whatever they shared.

These were things he wanted with an intensity he would never have predicted, when he rose from his own sleeping platform this meridian.

If it was a form of sickness or imbalance, let him be so. Kaaidth. What is, is.

The scent grew so powerful that all other thought was subsumed. Kov shook, and waited.

Koss appeared at the opening, and Kov's breath left him so swiftly that it extinguished the candle. He gasped air into emptied lungs, and Koss was part of the air he breathed, and so now a part of him.

It was untenable, this yearning, this filling. Kov could no longer look at the other; he closed his eyes once again, but he could not cease breathing so easily.

"Kov…." A whisper barely perceptible over the sound of the breeze, but one notable for the longing it held.

But what was this thing that they longed for? Was the thing that Koss desired the same character as his own unknown longing, or of a different nature?

Kov could not answer. No sound but a low moaning breath would escape him.

What would happen next?

"It is illogical to question that which will soon enough be evident." Again Sivet's voice in his memory or his mind. But Kov cared not. What could Sivet know of a moment such as this, a longing such as this?

There was no further comment from Koss, only the soft sound of his desert boots crossing the few steps from opening to shelves, and the water pitcher being replaced upon the service tray.

He would remain as he was, with his eyes closed, to allow Koss the needed privacy. But his body tensed, insistent. It longed for the promised touch, and it was more difficult than it had been since he was a child to hold the stillness of meditation.

His mind, and the quivering which was radiating through his torso, would not be stilled by any means he knew.

The feel of movement, and Koss' scent so near Kov could no longer resist the need to move. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes opening, and there was Koss, preparing to reignite the candle, but watching Kov out of eyes that glowed in T'Khut's strengthening light.

He was most aesthetically pleasing, and the way his tongue seemed to taste the air as Kov himself had done brought a stronger shudder. It passed first through him, then through Koss.

Kov didn't understand any of this, but concern faded. Kaiidth. What is, is.

He looked past Koss' shoulder, to where the water service sat in its spot. He would delay no further; the waiting had drawn on far too long, already. "Will you share water with me, Koss, and speak to what is within your soul?"

It was not precisely the form of the ceremonial acceptance of what had been offered, but he had never been offered the water service in this fashion, or with this intent. Perhaps it was acceptable to vary the ritual to fit this sharing.

If Koss was troubled by it, he made no sign of it. "I have longed to share – water – with you, Kov, since the first breath in which your scent came to me, and spoke of things I can't begin to understand, but feel I must learn."

Kov rose and moved to the shelf. He was uncertain he could pour without committing the unpardonable offense of spilling water, but if this was the means by which Koss wished to initiate the sharing between them, he would do nothing to argue it. He would therefore prepare as well as he was able, and pour with the greatest care he was capable of, though he had never been invited to the ceremony before.

He drew three breaths, filled with Koss' scent, already more known to him than any other, and then took the tray carefully, and brought it back to the table, to find that Koss was holding the book he had placed upon it. But he could say nothing to it now, as it was to Koss to speak first to the matter that had precipitated his presenting of the water service.

"I offer this water, and the sharing of it, as an intention of peaceful sharing between us." Kov lifted the pitcher and poured with the utmost care. To his relief, he did not spill. He returned to his former location, though he wanted to be nearer to Koss, to breath in the scent that had come to mean so much to him, so swiftly.

"I accept your offering of water, and the intention of peaceful sharing between us." Koss reached to the tray, but rather than take the bowl closest to him, he placed his hands upon the one nearest Kov, and those hands trembled.

Kov watched. If he extended his hand now, he could touch the other. The impulse to do so was nearly enough to overwhelm his control, but he held. He would learn the manner Koss wished for this sharing, before he imposed his own longings upon it.

Koss lifted the bowl but didn't drink. Kov took the bowl on Koss' side of the tray, and lifted it to the same level.

Their gaze met, and, slowly, without any need for speaking to it, they lifted the bowls in unison, and drank a small amount of the mineral-traced, life-sustaining water. The awareness between them deepened; it was nearly more than Kov could bear. Now he knew that Koss was also struggling to maintain control.

Together, wonderingly, they placed the bowls back where they had taken them from, and, in the process, their sleeves brushed against one another, and they both gasped, extinguishing the candle once again, and leaving them in the redglow of light from T'Khut.

"I wish to share with you, Kov. I wish to open myself to you. My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." There was a pause. Kov waited; he could feel the weight of whatever it was that Koss wanted, but he lacked the understanding to give a proper response. After ten breaths, Koss said, "You don't know what it is that I am asking, do you?"

"I do not." Kov wondered at the emotion evident for a moment upon Koss' face.

"Then, if you will permit me, I desire to be the one to reveal a new form of touch to you. But it is imperative that you truly be willing, for, if you are not, the chances that you might sustain harm are far too great. I would not choose to cause you any harm, Kov." The architect's voice was lower, now, and there was a friction in it there hadn't been, until now.

"Will you tell me more of it?" Kov's quivering had reached to his hips. There was something in it that was … he had no name to give the emotion it engendered, but the sensation that had grown so worrisome was now … pleasant. He wished to explore whatever form of touching Koss would choose to share with him, here beneath T'Khut's light, and within these secure rock walls.

"I will speak on it, Kov. But let us first complete the water ritual together, and the touch we came to explore. I would share much more with you. However, it need not all happen on this night. There is a certain agreeableness to prolonging certain desired outcomes, to build the anticipation and readiness for them. Or so I have long thought, though I find I wish less to prolong any such desires where you are involved." He stopped abruptly, and finished with, "I ask forgiveness. It was too much to say, and far too soon for you. You haven't had the six days I have had to build your longing within you."

"I have found twelve hours to be more than sufficient for the purpose, Koss. There is no need for forgiveness. I share your impatience, illogical as that might be." He gazed directly into the blue eyes of the man seated across from him. In most places on this world, it would be a breach of privacy to share such an intimacy, but had he and Koss not come to this place to share such closeness as they could discover between them? "Let us finish the ceremony and learn where it will lead us."

He reached for the drinking bowl he had used previously, but Koss spoke, very softly. "Kroykah, Kov."

Kov paused with his hands nearly to the bowl and raised a brow to his companion.

"I will take the bowl closest to me, if you will permit it. In this manner, we can touch – before we touch, in a sense."

There was something about it that made Kov think of the line from his Promising to T'Sia. "Never and always touching and touched." But he didn't speak on it to Kov – they had spoken of their Promiseds earlier in the day, and he didn't want to be reminded of the young woman now.

This was a time to share with Koss, and no other. In that thought was his decision made. "It will be as you wish, Koss. Let us then touch – before we touch."

He adjusted to take up the drinking bowl nearest him, and Koss did the same. Again the lifting in unison, the sipping – except that Koss turned the bowl in his hands, and placed his lips in the precise location where Kov's had been.

There was something in that action which escalated the quivering to a tremor, and Kov was again concerned that he would spill the water before he could drink. And yet, he turned the bowl clumsily, allowing his awareness to feel for the place where Koss' lips had rested upon this bowl's edge.

He knew the place when a fresh tingle touched his mouth, promising something vastly different from what had been arranged and set in motion by the priestess who had overseen his Promising to T'Sia.

Kov knew not what it was, only that he wanted to learn. It was possible that he needed to learn, in the same way he needed air to breath.

Certainly, there was no logic in that.

But he looked into Koss' direct eyes, and it seemed there was a new logic in this, of a kind he had never suspected existed.

There was nothing else to be said, and so they sipped, set the bowls down, lifted the one the other had held, placed their lips to the same place the other's had rested, again and again. The sensations were layered, awareness upon awareness. Of self, of other, of a place where perhaps there was neither self nor other, but only the sharing between them.


	7. Nearer

When the water was finished, Koss lit the candle. "Did you enjoy your reading?" His voice was very soft, but more expressive than would be acceptable beyond these walls.

"I didn't read the book, Koss. I would not, without your leave to do so."

"You have it, Kov. You had it. This chamber is yours, as well as mine, if you wish to share it. Once or ever, it is yours. I have brought no other to this place, wished to bring no other."

Then T'Pol had not been here, and Koss would choose to keep his Promised from this place. When they were married, would he tell the woman of this place?

Would Kov tell T'Sia?

Somehow, he could not imagine doing so.

He didn't want to. This was a place and a time for him, and for Koss, and for no others beyond them.

"If you would take the book, or any of the books, to read in your home, I would be most honored," Koss said. "But now, we have other matters to explore." He paired two trembling fingers, studying them for a moment before extending them to rest on the cover of the book, in the manner of an invitation that needed no words.

Kov felt the moment intensity, as he had this dawning, and as he had when he first saw Koss appear above the rise of the dune this evening, or when they stood at the entrance cleft to the cave, or when he knew Koss was intending to offer the water ceremony. So many moments of change they had shared already, each of them leading to …

Kov didn't know what or where they led to. However, he knew that he yearned to know, and, perhaps, in this moment, it was enough.

He arranged his own fingers in the same way Koss held his,extendeding his arm. Slowly, he came nearer to the hand that rested there on the book. It was trembling considerably; so was Kov's own.

Nearer. Nearer.

Kov longed to close the entire distance – but he would not. Not alone. He stopped instead a fingerswidth away and waited.

"Slightly closer…." It was a deep rich murmur. "Slightly closer, and we will – feel – one another."

"We will be touching."

"Before the touch, Kov. Before, we will feel one another's bioelectric activity. I have felt T'Pol's in the Promising. Did you not feel T'Sia's?"

"I felt her. But it was guided by the priestess, and not ours to explore."

"Nor was what I felt with T'Pol. However, I sensed that she would not wish to explore it as I would. There is something within her that is closed to me, or perhaps to all others. Or perhaps she, too, longs to share with another who is not me."

Kov had felt no such resistance in T'Sia, but it seemed a discourtesy to say so. However, the distance between Koss and his Promised might explain why Koss so desired to share touch with him.

"What is it you would have me do now, Koss?"

"Together, we will move nearer, slowly, gradually. Each person has their own level of sensitivity. We may not feel one another in the same moment. It is possible that we may not feel one another at all, or that one of us may not. However, if we are able, it will make other forms of sharing a simpler matter, between us."

Kov stretched further and felt – _something_. It was a new warmth, eager and hungry, yet still calm and soothing –

"It is _you_ , Koss. I can feel you!"

He had not produced such a surfeit of emotion since he was a small child. Nor had he had cause to.

"Your ability to sense is stronger than mine. It is a skill you might develop further, if you choose. Now, though – please hold that position, and let me determine the point at which I am able to sense you." His fingers edged another millimeter, then another, and a third – and then he made a low sound such as Kov had never before heard. "Your energy – I have felt nothing so pleasing as this, Kov."

They held the position, fingers near to touching, trembling upon the cover of the book, until there was no longer any thought other than the energy that flowed between –

And, without Kov having chosen the action, their fingers brushed.


	8. Akin to Music

The sound they made broke from both their throats, as one. It was a surge of emotion unlike any Kov had known. There was no name to give it, but it was an emotion he would keep in his mind for as long as he lived. He was certain of nothing else, in this moment, but he was certain of that.

"I didn't know touch could – " But he could say no more, for he had no words to give to this.

"Nor I." Koss made a small motion with his head; his eyes glowed with the flame reflected in them.

The trembling was of them both now. The warmth, greater than what their flesh could account for, built most pleasantly, and his energy and Koss' blended in the points where their fingertips touched.

"It is akin to music."

"A music beyond any I have known or thought to be possible. It is within us."

"No, Koss. Not within us. It is _of_ us. It is ours, and ours alone. We can make this music with no other." Kov was uncertain how he had this knowing, but not of its truth. "Perhaps there is other music you might make with T'Pol, or I with T'Sia. But this music can only be produced when you and I blend what is within us to create it."


	9. Awakened

They held the touch – Kov could not say how long, for his sense of time's passage was oddly affected by the physical contact. Then he felt a growing impulse to deepen the touch, to move his fingertips slightly up Koss' fingers. At first, he resisted it in the manner he had been taught to suppress all emotional response in order to allow space for thought.

"You are suppressing your desires, Kov." It was soft but shaded with meanings Kov didn't understand.

He said nothing. He wouldn't deny it, not when Koss had more than once expressed displeasure with his previous untruths. But he could not precisely confirm it; he had not the words to explain and knew not whether Koss would accept the touch.

The silence expanded between them. Kov could not look into the other's eyes; the intimacy of such an action, while he yearned for the touch, was beyond bearing.

"Whatever it is you desire, Kov, I will allow you."

"You know not what I would have of you."

"In this moment, it is of no concern. I wish to share it."

"That is illogical, Koss."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It may be that my motivation makes it logical to indulge your desires."

Kov considered Koss' words, and the impulse which would not be subdued. Koss had allowed this much. No, he had initiated it, asked for it, and brought them to this place to explore it. He had suggested there was more he would like to share than this. He had prepared the water ceremony and directed the sharing that placed their lips in the same positions.

He could wait no longer.

He would wait no longer.

Kov released the hold on his fingers, and they trembled away from the tips of Koss', eliciting a soft protest sound his companion didn't restrain – a sound that shifted as Kov's fingertips moved slowly over Koss' nails.

It was all he dared, and it brought sensations he'd never known. He shivered with them, with the newness and the pleasure of them.

"How –" Koss' voice seemed uncertain. "How do you know of the ouz'hesta, Kov?"

"Ouz'hesta?" It was an old word, but not one originated within his clan, and Kov knew it not. "I don't know of it."

"You perform it well."

"I don't understand."

"May I?" Koss' fingers twitched slightly beneath his own; Kov had an impression he wanted to move them.

Kov was uncertain he could tolerate such an action, but Koss had allowed him. He would learn what he could of this touching, that he might understand why the other's scent drew him where T'Sia's brought nausea.

"You may." He didn't know what it was he agreed to, but he had come here, and it would be illogical to refuse whatever learning there could be in it. However, logic was not the reason he would choose to accept Koss.

He was uncertain precisely what was.

But his body shuddered, eager for … something he couldn't know, or name.

Koss' fingers slipped from beneath his own, and now it was Kov's voice that emerged in a protesting sound, though he had intended no such thing.

He wanted the touch of those fingers.

He wanted far more than that.

He wanted things he couldn't begin to understand, and he wanted them with Koss, and Koss alone.

There was perhaps some form of danger in that –

But then Koss' fingertips connected with his nails, and every other thought vanished in the wave of building pleasure.

He wanted more. His breath left him in another moaning sound, and he couldn't find it again. If he never did, he would die still wondering at what this meant, and where it might mean.

Koss' touch moved upward, to the place where his nails met the skin at their bases and paused. Those two points of contact seemed to be aflame in some strange way that brought searing awareness, not pain.

A strange thought of T'Pol, Koss' Promised, who had dared to touch the flame. Was this why? What had she felt? Something akin to this longing hunger, this promise that there was more, so much more, to be explored?

"There is far more, Kov. This is only the beginning of the ouz'hesta. It can be … so much more than this. So very much more."

"I would learn it –" Did he dare to say the rest?

Did he dare not to?

"I would learn it all, Koss. All that you can teach me, and all that we might learn together. Wherever it will lead, I would learn it."

"Such words…." Koss breathed out the response, then inhaled quickly through his mouth, his tongue emerging for a moment to taste the air. "Such words are all I have longed to hear, since I first scented you upon the air."

"Help me to learn," Kov said, and tasted the air as well.

"Follow your impulses, Kov. Only that. Follow your impulses, and they will lead you to a sharing nearly as old as our species. Follow them, and you will learn what an ouz'hesta can be."

Kov closed his eyes. He wanted to feel … whatever they might feel together. Impulse – or perhaps something deeper, something instinctual, something hungry and insistent. It told him to move his fingers again, taking them from beneath Koss'. Slowly – there was no need to hurry, for T'Khut was only now appearing in the high window over the sleeping platform. Many hours awaited before dawning, and the day that followed was a rest day. If Koss would remain here, and allow him to remain, as well –

"As long as you wish, Kov. I will remain with you as long as you wish."

This was the second time he had seemed to know what Kov was thinking without him speaking to it. "I would learn more of this," he said, and wondered if Koss could understand what he intended.

"Whatever you wish to learn, I will help you as I am able, Kov. Whether it is a thing you share only with me, or carry forward into your life, and we never share it again. I will cherish this time, and this learning shared together."

"Koss…" But there was nothing else he could say. Instead, Kov allowed his fingertips to speak for him, moving to the place where Koss' had rested upon his own, then, tentatively, slightly further, to the first knuckle.

"Feel, Kov. Allow yourself to feel, and to know what it is to be Vulcan."

Kov's eyes opened, and Koss was there, leaning in to watch him, eyes intent upon his face, as though there was something that he could learn or read there.

"Feel, Kov. Only that. Feel, and do what you will."

Feeling, Kov allowed his awareness to settle into his fingertips. Koss' bioelectric pulses, and his own, and the music they made, surged and flowed between them, through him. It was consuming – and Kov allowed himself to be consumed, as though he was fuel for this music, and nothing more.

Perhaps he was.

But he cared not. The music was all, and all he wanted.

The music, and the man with whom he could make it.

He sank into those two points of awareness and let the rest of existence recede. It was of no consequence, here.

A soft whisper … a desire to match his own. Yearning – but with a greater understanding of what it was that he yearned for.

Koss had knowledge that Kov lacked, and Kov wanted to share this knowledge. He wanted to understand, to know why it was that he was so eager for this, when he could remember never having felt that way for anything in his life.

"The knowing is here, Kov. But I can't simply give it. You must seek it, and find it, on your own."

There was … an opening. In some manner Kos found it through the touch. It was a place where Koss' mind was porous, opening to him.

"How can I feel this?"

"Have you never sensed another with your touch, Kov?"

"With my touch? No … none other than T'Sia, when we were Promised. But the priest conducted the opening. I did nothing beyond touch my fingertips to hers, and she hers to mine."

"If you could feel so much as a child, Kov. If you could feel it then – it is possible that there is so much more you may be able to sense now. If you open yourself, it is possible. You must become porous. Porous, as I am. Open slowly, without focus. As the flowers open after the moist times, so too can we open, one to the other, and in that is the beginning of sharing between us. Never and always touching and touched."

"Never and always touching and touched?" Those were the words spoken by the priest at the Promising, words Kov had thought to be nothing more than a part of the ceremony intended to give it importance, to make it a matter of memory the children would not forget, when the time of the Burning came, and they had the need.

"Just so, Kov. They are more than simply words. More than a ceremony alone. They are words of truth. A Promise to all our people. I have no proof of this, but it is what I most deeply believe." Soft, so soft, almost as though the other man was speaking to himself.

"Never and always touching and touched." Yes. There was something in it which held a deeper truth, one that was meant for this sharing, and where it might lead.

There was something in the touching, in the music made by their bioelectric pulses, by the porous sensing of Kov. It could lead to – more. More than he knew, in this moment.

But he could learn. As the flowers opened after the moist times. That is what Koss had said. Kov felt the touch, and let his fingers drift along Koss' knuckles, as the desert breeze had, this dawning.

Koss' breath sighed like a breeze. He was porous, awaiting the touch. Kov wanted to reach for him, the way the infant T'Pol had dared to touch the flame. But this was not the way. He was certain of that; he could feel it.

Not for him the daring that would push forward. His daring was simply to open himself, to be as the blossom after the moist times. That, and nothing more.

Kov had been on the desert to see the flowers opening only once, at his Promising to T'Sia. But he remembered. The scent of them, unlike anything else he had ever smelled, as Koss' scent was unlike. He had wanted to go to explore. To touch and study the blossoms, and learn them, so he could carry the knowledge of them from this place.

But there had been no freedom to do so. He was bound by tradition, and by the needs of the many. The desires of the one had been outweighed. Even at seven years, he understood the precept well enough not to voice his wish to explore the flowers.

Koss sighed softly, and the feel of it was as a breeze shaking the blooms. "I have the memory of it, Kov. Did you never return to fulfill the wish?"

"Not until this day, Koss. This day, I have returned, and I will explore the blooms in all their fulness. I will come to know them well enough that they are a part of my being."

"Never and always touching and touched." Koss said it softly, and now his fingers were moving again. This time, Kov held himself still, waiting, as the bloom opened after the moist time. Koss was the light of Eridani 4o, and the light of T'Khut. He was life, in this moment.

A slight thought that there was nothing logical or Vulcan in this.

And yet, it felt more natural than any other thing in his life had been.

Koss' fingers made their journey in a slow, enticing manner, circling his, and rising just past the point where he had ceased his last touch. Awareness intensified, bringing stronger tremors. "This is the ouz'hesta," Koss said, his voice treating the word as a cherished thing. "It is the beginning of sharing between two who would seek to grow closer in mind. As we touch, we learn the other." He breathed a trembling breath. "I had never thought to take pleasure in this form of touch and learning, Kov."

Koss' advance halted, his fingertips warm and alive against Kov's skin. Kov felt more than heard the question the other man didn't ask: "Do you also take pleasure in this form of touch and learning?"

It would be a simple matter to answer in words, to let them speak for him as he always had. It would be what was expected.

But what was there in this moment, this night beneath T'Khut's growing light, that was expected? Why should he use his voice, when there was another language they were learning here, one of touch alone?

He began to move his fingers again, even more slowly, focusing this time on every sensation, opening like the blossom, so that Koss might discover the answer for himself if he chose, and if he was able to sense it. He longed to give him the fulness of the sensations, and the emotions they roused in him, emotions for which he had no name, but which were perhaps more real than any he had felt. More than all else, he wanted Koss to have that – the knowing that, for him, there was nothing that had ever resonated so harmoniously with all that he was than this form of touching shared with Koss.

But could Koss sense it? Kov had no understanding of how to give what it was he wanted to share, beyond some deep impulse.

Koss gasped and his fingers beneath Kov's touch shook strongly. "You….desire…."

Yes. That was it, precisely. The emotion for which Kov had had no word was desire.

"I desire you, Koss. As I have never desired anyone or anything, I desire you. To learn you to the last thought, the last feeling, the last cell. I have never desired any other so – not even T'Sia my Promised. Only you, Koss."

Koss trembled beneath him. He said nothing as Kov's fingers teased his knuckle, then explored higher. But there was no need for words here, either, though Kov had never attempted this type of sharing before.

Koss' answer was in his accelerated breathing, the coppery flush of color, his eyes that watched the movement of Kov's fingers over his own. This was as new for him.

They were not intended to feel this for one another.

They were too young by several years to be feeling it at all, if those who had had the charge to teach Kov about such things were to be believed.

He had never before had cause to doubt them.

But he had never before touched another in this fashion and felt what music they made together.

"We are Awakening. To one another, and not to those to whom we are Promised." Kov said it as a theory. He was uncertain whether he wished Koss to refute it.

"You are Awakening, Kov." Soft, so soft, akin to a silverbird's feather floating upon a desert thermal. "I am Awakened. Since the day I first scented you, I have been Awakened to you."

"Six days? And you spoke not to it, nor to me?"

"I didn't know whether you would choose to have the knowledge of my condition, Kov. For some, there is a shame in it. For me, there is not. Kaiidth. What is, is. I am Awakened to you and have no desire now for any other."

"And if I had not come to you this dawning? If your scent had not drawn me to you? What then, Koss?" Kov ceased just below the second knuckle, and the other man made a soft sound Kov now understood was desire.

"Then I would have remained silent on the matter and lived my life. I would not be the first among our people who has done so. The needs of the many outweigh the desires of the one."

Kov didn't respond, but he couldn't see how silence benefited either the many or the one. It was not unknown for men or women to be drawn not to their opposite gender, but their own. It was less than common, but more than infrequent. There were provisions in the Promising to allow for such occurrences – it was one of the reasons for the Challenge. T'Sia and T'Pol could be notified and given the chance to choose a champion more in keeping with their needs.

There would be no shame in it. It would be a logical solution that benefited all and added to a stable culture.

But he mentioned none of this. There was something he was sensing within Koss. Something that would resist his attempts to direct the course of this desire.

He sat silently, and closed his eyes again, awaiting Koss' next touch.

But it didn't come.


	10. Watching T'Khut

When he opened his eyes again, Koss had settled back upon his knees, and was watching T'Khut.

Kov studied him for a time, to determine if his companion was meditating. No, his respiration was too swift and shallow for that to be the purpose of this silent observance.

"Koss," he said, at last. "I would speak further on this."

"What is there to be said? We know the desire; we know we are Awakened. I had hoped it was only myself, even as I wished for you to share my Awakening."

"I share it, Koss. We must discuss that."

"No, Kov. I thought I wished you to share in what I feel. But now that I know that you do, I would that you did not." Kov felt a barrier rising in the connection they had shared. He didn't understand, but he would honor it if that is what Koss preferred.

Instead, he watched the man to whom he was newly Awakened. There had been a different kind of promise in their touch, in the natural way their minds had flowed together. It was deeper and more intense than what had been created between Kov and T'Sia.

Had Koss experienced the same, or was his Promising to T'Pol stronger, sustaining, a thing that he desired?

"Koss –"

"I claim my privacy in this, Kov." The other turned back to face him, and his eyes glittered. "We may share – what we will share – but I will speak no further on my Promising to T'Pol. I further ask that you speak no more to me on yours with T'Sia."

"I don't understand."

"I can give you no other answer, Kov. However, you may learn more if you read the book you pulled from the shelf, and the other volumes there. They give better answer than I am able."

Kov would read the book. He was certain of that. He would not breach the privacy barrier Koss had placed – or he would not this night. But there were yet things that could be learned, it seemed, only from asking Koss. "Why did you wish me to come here with you this night?"

"I wished to touch you, and to see if you would also wish to touch me."

Koss did not turn his regard from Vulcan's sister planet as she leaned in to watch them. There was no request or demand for privacy that would long deter the Watcher; perhaps that is why their species so valued it between themselves.

"Only that, Koss?" It seemed illogical to have made this journey only to explore the touch of paired fingers upon paired fingers, and nothing more.

"The ouz'hesta is an intimate act. It is not to be conducted where others might witness, except in the Promising and bonding ceremonies, or the most basic of touches, without the souldancing."

Kov didn't argue that there were many places closer to ShirKahr where such a touch could be explored unwitnessed. They had, after all, the use of a work chamber together that no other would enter without their leave. There were meditation spaces around the city, and many areas designated as private.

There was no need to have come here, simply so that their exploration would not be seen by any others. However, it did not seem Koss would respond favorably to having that fact stated, so Kov held it to himself. There were other questions he might ask.

"How is it that you know so much more of this than I, Koss?"

"I Awakened to you six days ago. I have had ample time for research."

Kov felt the response. It was honest, but there was an emptiness to it. Koss had given him the facts, but not their substance. That he would apparently not reveal this night.

"Then I, too, shall have to conduct my research, Koss. I sense that there is much I must learn."

"For what purpose? I have studied it; I am able to tell you what you wish to know."

Kov knew from that that there were things Koss would not have him learn. He didn't know what manner of things, or what purpose the other man thought there might be in withholding them, but he was certain that that was Koss' intent.

He would not say so outright, however. He considered for a time.

"When I am given an assignment to create or recreate a space, Koss, I am always given certain files that pertain to the project. These include measurements, plant life found in the area, and what the client would have me do with the space. They are often quite detailed and precise; there would be no need to enter the field to learn what is needed to create a suitable plan for improvement."

"I am familiar with reports such as those you speak of. I receive similar reports when I am given a new assignment. I find them most helpful and efficient."

Perhaps, while their fingers were dancing together, Kov might have been surprised to hear Koss make such an admission. But now he was getting a deeper sense of the other, and this information fit the new model he was building in his mind. "I don't find them helpful, Koss. Certainly not at first, and seldom ever."

"You said they were specific and thorough."

"That is true. But they don't hold within them the information I seek, because no other will know what is of value to me in designing the space to suit their needs. I must walk the space, be still in it, watch the light as it moves, feel the wind. All these things are of greater import to me. A report consists of measurements. However, there is more than quantifiable measures in any learning, whether it be a report regarding a new sand garden, or the art of touching one another. There is more, and it is this I must learn. So I will make my own study first, Koss. Once that is done, I will come to you for your measures and facts. Until I have my own understanding, yours may as easily prove detrimental than helpful for my purposes."

Koss said nothing to that, but he did shift his focus back to Kov, and there was something in his posture now that suggested tension, but of a differing nature than what they had shared before they touched. "I would choose to dissuade you – "

"You will not." The fact that he would desire to do so, after what Kov had said, was reason enough not to allow it. "You chose the manner of your research, Koss, and I will choose mine." An inspiration occurred, because he could feel that Koss would argue it further, if Kov permitted it. "I claim my right to privacy in this."

Koss said nothing, but Kov thought he was attempting to decide whether he was pleased. They remained in silence; Koss watching him. Kov decided to test the other man the way he might test a space to verify it was fit for the function and design he intended for it.

He settled to watch T'Khut in his turn, as though he was unconcerned with Koss or anything he might have to say.


	11. Kaiidth

Kov watched T'Khut. He neither spoke, nor looked away. Seven times, Koss stirred and made some sound as though he would speak, but Kov did not shift his focus, and the other said nothing. Perhaps there was a certain cruelty in his inattention, but, if there was, there also was in Koss bringing him here and introducing him to the intimate touch, and Awakening, only to leave him still longing for that which he didn't fully understand.

If such cruelty was to be the measure of what they shared, Kov would leave this place, alone, at the earliest safe moment, and return to Sivet's home. He would not take the book Koss had so wanted him to read, though he had been certain he would only hours ago.

He had more evidence that Koss was not to be trusted than reason to trust the other. If research on this touching existed within the pages of these books, it was logical to assume that it also existed in other places, and that he would be able to find it. He would do as he had told Koss. He would walk the space of this new reality, examine the way its light fell, its winds blew, its terrain, and how it could be altered. He would explore his purpose in pursuing such a connection. He would come to comprehension of this sharing, and the place it might hold in his life, if Koss would allow it.

He had said that he would – that they might share "what we will share." Perhaps, in that, there was some hope that he could be swayed.

But that was not a matter to be tended to now. Soon, within the hour, it would be safe to return to the city. He must do so and speak to T'Sia.

Koss had requested he speak no more on his bonding, so Kov would not inform him that he had decided that he could not marry T'Sia.

Whether Koss desired a future with him, or whether he would allow himself to act on such a desire, was irrelevant, in this. Since they were little more than infants themselves, T'Sia had spoken of her desire for children of her own, to raise and to care for. There was no desire she held so highly.

She was his closest associate, and their Promising had been arranged before their births. He could not desire her as he desired Koss, and he would not require her to honor the agreement their parents had made when the cost was – what was the word that Koss had used? The Terran word – happiness.

He would not ask T'Sia to surrender her happiness to honor the commitment to him. They both would fare better if allowed to choose according to their needs. Let her choose another, one who could give to her what she needed, who could hold her in highest affection, as Sivet had held T'Dana.

Anything less was less than a marriage, in his opinion, and far less than T'Sia deserved.

The first edge of T'Khut was hidden by the window opening. Soon, it would be time to leave this place. If Koss did not speak, he would do so silently, Kov decided. He would not reference this meeting again, if Koss did not. If the other chose privacy, or didn't want him to feel what he felt, there was little point in making any such mention.

However, silence would change nothing for Kov. For what he had learned this night, he was grateful. He now knew why the arousal scent of a woman was nauseating; he was not ill. His physiology simply matched his nature and cleaved to the scent of an aroused male.

 _Kaiidth._ What is, is. What is is what is meant to be.

Hiding from it as Koss seemed to be doing would serve no beneficial purpose that Kov could perceive. It was foolish to struggle so against one's nature. That was the reason for the challenge; it allowed for the changes growing brought, and the things that could not be known when the Promised were children. It was a space in which decisions could be made regarding the future, and fitness for purpose.

He could never be fit for T'Sia's purposes, or she for his, in this manner. Better that they remain close associates and end the Promising in the challenge.

T'Khut was halfway past his line of sight when Koss finally spoke. "Tell me what you are thinking, Kov – and what you are feeling."

Kov didn't look away from the window. "I will not. I have already claimed my right to privacy in it. I have not rescinded or relinquished that right. My thoughts and my emotions are not your concern." He said it gently, but with firmness.

"Tell me what I must do to hear them." Koss, apparently, did not accept denial of his wishes easily.

"There is nothing." Before Koss broke away, there was nothing Kov would have denied him, even to mating, though he never had, and was uncertain how to proceed with a male partner. Lack of knowledge did not equate to lack of desire, and he had desired it.

He still did.

But mating without true sharing was not something he cared to experience. Now that he had felt their music, he would not choose to share that which didn't contain it.

Koss was silent again, as T'Khut continued her orbit and moved further out of his visual range. Kov said nothing more; there seemed nothing to be said.

"Our sharing…"

"Was deeply pleasurable, Koss. I am grateful. I have learned a valuable fact about myself."

"Would you have nothing more of me?" There was something in that tone which made it impossible not to look at the other. Kov had felt something similar the one time Sivet had lost control of his anger.

The other man was intent, tense, shaking still, though Kov's trembling had ceased.

"It was you who ended the sharing, Koss. It was you who said that, knowing I desire you as you do me, you wish for it not to be so." He was calm; he wondered why, when it seemed he should not be.

"But it is so. Wishing cannot undo it."

"Wishing cannot. However, even emotions can be finite. Nor must I act on what I desire. Perhaps I will desire still, but you will have the shape of your wish, for I will speak no further on it with you, and I will do nothing to act upon it. You may proceed with your life as though it were not true, that nothing but time passed between the moment we arrived, and that in which I leave."

He didn't wait for a reply, only turned back to watch as the last of T'Khut disappeared. Then he rose, and stretched, his back to Koss but very aware that the other watched. "I take my leave of you now, Koss." He did not look back.

"Kov –" but the sound of Koss' plea or protest was erased by the chamber's door as it slipped closed behind him.


	12. Another Way

Kov moved swiftly as he was able until he reached the cleft in the rock. He didn't want to be seen by any others. If there were in fact others here, they had encountered none during the evening, and, since he saw no one, Koss would be able to proceed as though nothing had occurred in his chamber this night, at least as regarded anyone else who knew of this place.

Kov would not return to it. He would not forget or regret what he had learned here, and he was grateful for the experience and the knowing it had led to, but he would not come again to the place where Koss had first Awakened him, and then rejected him.

Once upon the desert, however, it was better that he proceed with caution, for, though no longer so dangerous with T'Khut well past her zenith, such wild places were never truly safe. He would watch, and listen, and allow himself time for the experiences of the past hours to become part of his personal history. He would not speak to T'Sia, or enter the home he shared with Sivet, without first finding peace amid the emotions these events had aroused in him.

To do so would be most irresponsible. He would not compound the entropy his decision was certain to create with irresponsibility.

Kov walked along the path he had traveled only hours before. He had been questioning then. What his own motive was for coming to this place, and what was Koss'. What they would share. What it would be, to touch another. Why his body trembled, when it never had before.

Now, he had answers. Perhaps not to all he had questioned, but to some, and for other questions he hadn't known to ask. His life, from this point, could not be the same. Nor, perhaps regrettably, could T'Sia's or Sivet's.

He had never succeeded in satisfying his father, but in honoring his Promising to T'Sia, there would be at least one area in which he might not thoroughly disappoint Sivet. Kov had no doubt that his refusal to do so would be the greatest disappointment he had yet given. As little as Sivet was pleased by his son, he had had the deepest affection for his wife. T'Dana had wished for nothing, apparently, but that she have a child. When she had learned that she would bear a son, and her close associate a daughter in the same season of the same year, the choice had been a simple matter. The son and the daughter would be Promised at seven and married once they were prepared for that stage of their lives to begin, likely in their fifth decade, in order to allow them the opportunity to form a bond before the Burning erased all but the need to mate.

Until this night, Kov had never considered objecting in any way to those plans. Even when the shifting of T'Sia's scent began to trouble him, he had never assumed anything other than that he must speak nothing of it, and learn to bear it, for she was to be his wife, and he would not choose to cause her any pain or discomfort.

Perhaps, now, she would feel both. He would still not choose it for her, but he would not attempt to be something, even a husband, that he was not capable of doing well. It might be that there were those who, like Koss, would choose to "go on with their living" even after learning this truth about themselves. Kov could not be certain, nor could he ask, but he suspected that "going on with his living", for Koss, meant marrying T'Pol, and giving her no indication of what manner of husband she was contracting herself to.

It seemed to Kov that any person who might marry one who could desire them not, even in the Burning, ought to be made aware of that fact, and given the opportunity to choose for themselves whether their Promised was fit for their purposes.

Perhaps Koss would not give T'Pol that choice; he himself would not deny it to T'Sia.

However, he must not hasten to have the conversation they must have. She would be at her place of employment now. Clothing designers often worked when most Vulcans did not, so they could accommodate their customers. She would be at her busiest over the next three days, and such a distraction would be detrimental to her ability to function. He would not take from her the stability of their Promising at such a time.

No. Instead, he would use the time wisely. He would meditate and attempt to incorporate the new information into his reality without distressing emotional overlay. He would begin the research he had discussed with Koss –

Koss.

In three days, he would be expected to return to work in an office shared with the other man. He would not have the opportunity to meet with T'Sia at least until he had finished one day, and possibly more.

Koss' presence in his workplace might make it difficult to maintain the emotional control he wished to have for the conversation with his Promised.

It was a matter that must be considered.

He could ask that another space be provided for him. But that was both inefficient and illogical; the facilities were adequate as they were. An emotional issue was not sufficient cause to inconvenience the Academy staff. More, when he had spoken to T'Sia, he would no longer need distance from Koss. It might be far more desirable to remain in the shared workspace, as a reminder to the other that what had been shared had been and could not simply be undone because Koss wished it to be.

What was required was distance before he spoke to T'Sia, and proximity following that discussion.

Kov walked on until the lights of ShiKahr hazed the horizon, and then the solution came.

He would work in the office for the three days Koss would not be there. He could make significant progress and spend the day of Koss' return in his personal office at the compound, away from the grounds of the Academy. There were matters best dealt with in that location, and he would assure himself that he could meet with his Promised without compromising his emotional state. He would likewise avoid Sivet; that would be far simpler a matter. His father seldom cared to be in his presence unless there was family business to attend to, and even then for no longer than was necessary. As long as there was no unforeseen emergency situation, Kov could simply avoid the common spaces of their home during the times when Sivet used them. His father was a predictable being.

He spent the rest of the walk mapping the next days in his mind – where to be and when, so that he would have no emotionally troubling interactions before he could meet with his Promised. There was a comfort in this planning that settled his agitation. He could do nothing, now, about being Awakened to Koss. Once Awakened, there was no returning to the time when one was not or exchanging the being to whom one was Awakened for another, even if the subject was not one's Promised.

It was another reason for the Challenge.

He was nearing the city when he heard a cough. His muscles tensed, thinking it perhaps a predator over the final rise. It would be unusual for a le-matya or sehlat to come so close to the city, but to assume that unusual equated to impossible could be a fatal error.

Kov crouched into a defensive position and moved forward with caution, reviewing the tactics he had learned for dealing with dangerous desert wildlife.

He reached the top of the rise – and there was another man watching him. Kov straightened. "I meant no intrusion. I will take another way."

"There is no need." The man was perhaps Sivet's age, or slightly younger, but there was an animation and looseness in his features which suggested youth and the freedom to reveal his thoughts and emotions. Kov was fascinated by the uninhibited display, although also concerned that perhaps this man was not mentally stable. "Please, be at your ease. If you have come from the compound in the cliffs beyond, you have had a long walk, and rest would no doubt be welcome. I am Tavin, a trainer of sehlats."

"Tavin." Kov had heard the name; most citizens of Shikahr no doubt had. "I am Kov, a designer of landscapes."

"You are younger than I would have thought you, Kov, considering the number of landscapes attributed to you. Have you ever considered designing an area where sehlats might be trained and take independent exercise where they might be interacted with?"

It was as unexpected a query as the man himself. "I have not. Such a space would need to be large and offer secure restraint to assure that the sehlats could not escape or cause injury to themselves, property, or Vulcans."

"You see it clearly, Kov. I would also need space for a breeding facility, and a nursery where the young could shelter with their parents; familial connections are vital in sehlats, as they are to us. Whether as domesticated or wild, this is true. Most who are attacked by a sehlat have encountered one after the demise of a mate or progeny."

Kov had not known this. He didn't come often to the desert. He found plenty of space and solitude in the course of his work. "It is a fascinating concept, Tavin."

"Perhaps it is more than a concept, Kov. The land we stand upon is mine; I completed its purchase at dawning yesterday."

At dawning. While he was learning about Koss, Tavin was purchasing this land.

"You bought the land without a plan for the facilities you wish to place here?" There was a certain illogic in that course of action, if he understood it correctly.

"I have a plan, Kov. But you are well-regarded as the most adept and intuitive of designers. It is not a thing our people are known for; however, it is precisely what is needed to create the spaces I desire for my stock."

Desire. The word resonated deeply, and brought an image of Koss' face, and the feel of the touching they had done together.

"I have recently begun a project at the Science Academy."

"You have also been very recently Awakened. By the fact that you are here alone, and not with your new Intended, I infer that the condition is – problematic. Perhaps, in such a case, an additional project which allows great freedom might be most welcome."

"How do you know that I am Awakened?" Only after he spoke did it occur to Kov that he might have chosen to deny the fact and avoid any further discussion on it.

The older man made a rich deep sound that had the feel of music. His facial muscles moved into a strange expression – turned up at the sides to form an open-mouthed arch. Kov wondered if he was stable, or perhaps dangerously imbalanced. "Kov, you are perhaps even younger than you look, if you do not understand the manner in which you are alerting every being who might desire you to your newly Awakened status. It is in your scent, and occupies your mind nearly wholly – were it not so, would you have remained to speak with such as me? It is in your bearing and carried in the lines of your face."

"Every being who might desire me?" Kov left the rest for now. It would need to be considered, before he encountered anyone who might be distressed by his newly acquired status. In this moment, however, all that was of import was that phrase.

"Yes, Kov. I am as you, drawn not to women, but to men. My husband died recently. If he had not, perhaps I would have been too content in my bonding to take note of a young man newly Awakened to his reality. As I am now, I could not fail to do so. If I have violated your privacy in this, I ask forgiveness."

Kov was uncertain how to respond. He would not have chosen this interaction, but he didn't find it - precisely – unpleasant. It was also quite likely that, having been bonded to another male, Tavin might be able to assist him in his efforts to learn of the touching he and Koss had shared, and what it might mean. "There is nothing to forgive, and no violation has occurred. Tavin, there are questions I would ask, if you would but permit it."

"I will answer any you have, Kov. Perhaps, though, this is a less than ideal place to conduct such learning. There is a house on this property. I will not call it a home, not yet, but it is comfortable and private, and there we may take rest and nourishment, if you wish them. We may discuss your questions, for I am certain I myself asked many of the same when I was new-Awakened. If you wish it, we might also discuss the work I have which you might be ideally suited for."

"I will accompany you, Tavin." Kov set aside the plan he had mapped for the next days. Tavin's presence was both accepting and soothing. He offered the promise of knowledge and seemed willing to share it for Kov's benefit.

Did he desire to touch Kov? Or was he nearing his Time, with his mate dead, and wishing to pass his pon farr with a new companion? Had he given his trust too swiftly?

"Your thoughts are not so hidden as you would think them, young Kov." Tavin stopped and turned back to face him. "Nor so unusual, for one so newly in your position. I will share the ouz'hesta with you only if you wish it – it is a pleasing form of communication, but also an intimate one. If you wish to learn, or explore, I would find pleasure in it, but I have no desire to share such contact with one who doesn't equally desire the sharing. As for mating – I Burned, two years past, and most brightly. I have sufficient time to find another mate, and I would not choose one who had never felt the Burning. You are yet far too young, Kov, to be in any danger of arousing me, other than the simple physiological response to your Awakened condition."

"I meant no offense –"

"With your thoughts?" Tavin spoke over the end of what Kov had been intending to say and made the strange sound again. "Of course you did not. Nor was there any offense in the thoughts. Caution is a wise practice and will serve you well if you accept my business proposal. Caution is vital, when interacting with sehlats."

Kov had no response, and Tavin didn't seem to expect any of him. He simply turned and resumed his course, with Kov following. Tavin spoke from time to time – he was far more inclined to do so, it seemed, than anyone else Kov had ever met – but didn't seem to require any answer. Kov allowed the words to be as the desert breeze, flowing around and over him, noted and experienced, but with no need to interact. As the wind was the wind, Tavin's words were as they were.

After approximately an hour, a structure was visible along the path they were taking, which angled gradually away from the city below to take advantage of the greater space available at the desert's edge. "That is my house," Tavin said, gesturing unnecessarily, for there was no other structure here. "Please, come within. Take nourishment, and rest, and ask the questions for which you seek answers."

The request was strangely worded, and there was something in Tavin that seemed – Kov didn't know precisely, only that it was different than any other Vulcan he had known in all his living. Perhaps he ought to excuse himself and leave.

But he knew that he would not.

If Tavin had the answers he needed, he would remain to learn them. If he had nothing more than a meal and a place where Kov could regain his emotional stability before returning to the city, there was value enough in that to merit the time spent in his company.

It was illogical, perhaps, but it was nonetheless true that, after Koss' refusal to accept what had become real between them, there was a comfort in Tavin's unconventional manner that appealed deeply to him. He had been hurt by the Awakening followed so closely by the denial of all that had been shared. A reality he had never suspected existed, and Koss had led him to it, and then closed himself to it.

"This night has wounded you deeply, young Kov." Tavin spoke it as a statement, not a question.

"It was not the night that did so, Tavin. It was the one with whom I shared the majority of it and would perhaps willingly have shared what remains of my life."

"I mean no intrusion, but, if it would help you to speak of it, there is no need to name he to whom you are Awakened, nor any other detail. I will listen, and offer counsel if I'm able, and hold your truth in highest privacy."

"Why?"

"Because you are soulwounded, and because I know that pain. Perhaps, Kov, in providing you solace, I provide it also to myself. I have been much alone this last week, and I am not used to so much solitude. Kiran and I shared – everything in our lives." The older man's voice grew thick, and he turned his head away, but not before Kov saw the moisture that leaked from the corner of his eye.

Kov stayed behind him as Tavin led the way to the structure, which showed signs of disrepair. Perhaps he could assist with returning it to full functionality. It would be a manner of repayment for Tavin's kindness, and would perhaps help to heal them both –

A huge shape separated from the hillside and moved with frightening speed toward them. Kov scanned for a safe place, but there were no high places here.

"O'Nama, kroykah. You will frighten our young friend."

The creature stopped immediately and simply stood there. Only now did Kov realize it was a sehlat. He had never been so close to one of the creatures; Sivet had not permitted pets of any variety, and certainly not ones nearly as large as Kov's sleeping chamber.

"You have a sehlat here." His voice sounded faint.

"I have six. Once the facilities are completed, I will begin accepting others for training. I hope to be able to accommodate up to thirty. A well-trained sehlat is a companion for life, but an ill-trained sehlat is a danger to all."


	13. T'Dana

"There is no need for such watchfulness, Kov." Tavin made that strange sound again; Kov was beginning to suspect there was some significance to it. "I wouldn't have offered you the shelter of my house if I had any concerns for your safety with my companions. Beyond the legal difficulties your becoming injured would create, it would be illogical and unethical to do so."

"There are four sehlat in this chamber with us, Tavin."

"Ah, so you are able to count."

The other man seemed to be taking considerable pleasure in his agitation. Kov considered leaving – but if Tavin had information he could use in his understanding of what had occurred with Koss, he could bear the man's strangeness, and perhaps even the four enormous creatures in varying states of repose, and the knowledge that two more, as yet unseen, were also in residence.

"Where are the other two? I am able to count, and also to remember. You stated that there were six animals here."

"You've never had a sehlat, have you, young Kov?"

The question gave no answer to his, but this was Tavin's house. It would be most discourteous to say so. "No. Sivet my father doesn't allow the keeping of animals, companion or otherwise."

"I thought as much. There is a manner shared by all who are not raised in the company of a sehlat. For those who are, their size ceases to be a matter of importance long before adulthood is reached – unless the sehlat is ill-trained. Unfortunately, this sometimes results in a child never reaching adulthood at all. Still, though, it is the fault of the Vulcans, and not the animal."

"I am sure that is little consolation to the family of the child who is –" Kov was uncertain whether the sehlat would maul the child in question or consume it. With four sehlats within close proximity, he was quite certain he didn't want to learn the answer in this moment. "Deceased."

"That may be, Kov, but it is even less so to the sehlat, who will invariably be euthanized if a death occurs. It will not matter that proper training would have assured the safety of all involved, or that tens of thousands of domesticated sehlat reside in homes across the planet. An ill-trained sehlat is a menace to all, and if death or serious injury are the result, the animal will die."

"Then there is a deeper purpose to your efforts to adequately train these animals." Tavin hadn't spoken of his deep affection for his companions; there had been no need for him to do so. His knuckles ran over the immense head of one of the creatures, which sat beside him. Another was sprawled over the couch beside him, one giant paw resting on his lap.

"Yes. I want to assure that no sehlat will be murdered as a result of negligence from the family entrusted with its care. It is a waste – of Vulcan life, and of sehlat life – when such things occur. But the family chooses the manner in which they will interact with the sehlat. Being a biddable but instinctive creature, the sehlat is never afforded the same level of choice."

"You didn't answer my question, Tavin. Where are the fifth and sixth sehlats?" Kov looked over his shoulder, to the doorway that led into portions of the house Tavin had assured him he would see once they had "met my companions" and shared a repast. He was uncertain two more of the animals could fit into this chamber, although those already occupying it seemed wholly at their ease.

"You have never made any study of the sehlat."

"No." It hadn't been a question. Still Kov felt oddly compelled to defend it. "I know that they live upon the desert, and that they are carnivorous, and that they can be predatorial, particularly upon the Forge when T'Khut is full, but also in times of prey scarcity."

"Ah, the tour guide text, nothing more." The sound emanated from Tavin again; it seemed to coincide with such commentary. Kov thought he might like to understand better what Tavin intended by the sound, if anything.

The older man reached down along the underside of the sehlat beside him, making sounds Kov assumed to be some form of communication with it.

"I have learned enough to assure my safety, Tavin."

Tavin made some motion, and, when he straightened, his arms cradled two much smaller creatures which blinked in the light and made small grunts. It took Kov a moment to understand that these were infant sehlat.

"But not enough to know that sehlats are marsupials." Again the sound. "They will live within their mother's pouch, receiving warmth, nourishment, comfort, and protection from her for the first three years of their lives. For the next three, they will gradually come less and less often to the pouch, until they are independent. However, the family will remain closely connected throughout the lives of the young. Often, several family members will den in close proximity to one another, and, as mates are chosen, networks of related individuals will work together to provide food, protection, and community. That is why I can have six sehlats in such a relatively small space; these animals are all young offshoots of such a network."

Kov found the infant sehlat aesthetically pleasing, but he wasn't prepared when Tavin rose and came to him. "You will need to learn far more of this species if you are going to design a facility for training them, Kov. Perhaps you could begin by holding one of these infants, so, making certain to cradle her in your arms, so she will feel secure and comfortable, and begin to build trust in your willingness to provide for her needs. That is always the basis of proper training, for any sehlat."

"You wish me to – to hold one of these animals?" But there was no need to ask; Tavin had already indicated that he did.

The infants already had the beginnings of fangs protruding from both upper and lower jaws. If he was not careful, it was possible that he might sustain a bite which might well cause serious injury.

"I am not practiced in handling animals, Tavin. Perhaps –"

"In all things, there can be no change without a new beginning, young Kov. Tell me, when you first learned of your Awakening last night, had you known of the ouz'hesta?"

"No. I learned it only in the space of the day – the existence of it, and the practice of it. There is much, I believe, that I have left to learn of it."

"These kits are far less dangerous than that manner of touching. Perhaps you will not believe this truth, at first, but it makes it no less a truth that you doubt it."

Tavin knelt beside the chair that Kov occupied. The kits, as he had referred to them, seemed to be quite comfortable nested in his arms. "I have no wish to hurt the animal," he said. He didn't mention that the kits' mother was watching them attentively, and he would not choose to anger her.

"They are quite resilient, I assure you. You would need to have intent to harm them and exert significant force to accomplish such an act. Your unwillingness to do so means that, for a brief time, the infant will be as safe with you as within the pouch of its mother."

There seemed no other objection he could logically make. "Is there a manner in which I am to receive the kit, Tavin?"

"First, allow the kit to scent your hand. Have no concern about the fangs; they haven't yet developed the jaw strength to allow them to bite, as they are nurslings. Then move your hand slowly and firmly along the length of the spine, until you are able to support the kit's body weight with your arm. Once you are holding it, draw it firmly against your body to provide security, and strive to encompass its body to simulate the mother's pouch."

The instructions were specific, but not difficult to follow. Given the events of the night now fading into dawning, Kov was somewhat uncomfortably aware of Tavin's body as he moved his arm into a supporting position, but the moment was brief, and then he held the kit in his cradled arms, its weight warm and alive and its eyes focused blinkingly upon his own.

There was something quite soothing in this contact.

"I would ask a question of you, young Kov." Tavin returned to his seat with the remaining kit; the mother sniffed it and his hand briefly, then yawned and stretched out upon the floor to rolly belly-up, as though enjoying her moments of relative freedom from parenthood.

"It is your home, Tavin."

"No, not yet, as I have said. But it is my hope that, with your assistance, it will come to be so, and that bears upon the question I would ask of you."

"I will assist you, Tavin. It will have to be in the spaces between my other duties, but your project is of interest, and there is pleasure in your companionship."

"That makes my question more important. Will you accept the care of this sehlat when you are here? Will you learn her needs and the manner of her training?"

"For what purpose?"

Again, Tavin made the sound; Kov thought he might gain confidence enough to ask the other man what he intended to convey with it. "For the purpose of your learning. You must know what is needed, if you are to create the facilities for training, and there is much that is best learned by discovery. But there is more. I learned long ago that giving myself to the care of another being is restorative. You have been soulwounded in your Awakening, and that is an especially vulnerable time. If you would forge a relationship with your Intended, it is best to do it without that wounding, for it would both be a simple matter to cause further injury, and the damage might lead to greater pain for you and he to whom you are Awakened."

"Then you intend this to be a therapeutic experience, as well as an educational one?"

"Yes, young Kov. And more. If you would, I will give this kit into your care. Perhaps she will encourage you to move forward into a life where you do not remain in the home of a father that you speak of with less warmth than you have shown to me, a stranger in your life new-met. Perhaps, with the knowing that this kit is here, and dependent upon you to learn to deal with those not of her species, you will come more often to this place, where you may find restoration and other kinds of learning which you deeply desire." Tavin paused, and, before he spoke again, he bowed his head so it was very near the kit he still held. "And, perhaps, if you do come often to this place, it will start to feel as a home to me, and I will have someone to speak to who is able to speak back in my language and offer something of the companionship lost when my husband died."

Again, there was the moisture in his eyes, but, this time, it overfilled them and ran in lines of mute pain down his face. Kov felt the resonance of that pain, and, were there no other reason, he thought perhaps that it would have been enough to persuade him. "I will accept the gift of you, Tavin. But what will the mother sehlat think of this arrangement? Or the father, since you have said that they form a network?"

"For me and you, Kov, it is as simple as my giving the kit over to your care and keeping. But it is not so for the sehlat. You will be required to earn the trust and companionship of this animal, and to prove, in all instances, that you are reliable and worthy of what she gives to you. That is the only way to earn her acceptance of you. Once you have that, her mother and father will willingly include you into their network."

"Then I accept and will endeavor to do as she requires. Does she have a name?" The kit yawned and made soft suckling motions with its mouth. Kov felt a most illogical, and most welcome, wave of affection for the infant animal. Perhaps, in this moment, he was beginning to understand why Tavin had chosen this species to be his companions.

"I have given her none. I most often wait until the kits are out of the pouch. However, you may choose her name, whenever you wish."

"T'Dana."

"You chose quickly, young Kov. Is it a name that holds meaning to you?"

"Yes." Perhaps no further explanation was necessary, but Kov felt an impulse to share it. "It was the name of my mother. She died during my birth, and I wish to honor her in the naming of this kit." He didn't know whether T'Dana would have found any honor in such a gesture, and he was certain that Sivet would not, but Kov took comfort in it. He would come to know the kit T'Dana as he had never known the woman who gave him life. 


	14. I Grieve With You

"I grieve with you." The phrase was customary, but the emotion evident in Tavin's voice was not. Nor was the moisture once again filling his eyes.

"I didn't know her, Tavin. She died during my birth."

"Then I grieve more deeply with you, Kov. May T'Dana the _sehlat_ bring you comfort, joy, and peace, as a mother, at her best, does well." Tavin didn't drop his gaze this time as the moisture flowed. He seemed to feel neither shame nor the typical need for privacy when so clearly compromised. Perhaps it was that they were in his home, or his interactions with the animals.

Kov wanted to learn what it was that allowed him to be so at peace with such deep levels of emotion. But it was a breach of Tavin's privacy to ask, and so he did not.

In five minutes more, the _sehlat_ kit began to make small urgent cries, and the mother rose and came to stand beside Kov's chair. "O'Nama, kroykah. You will have your daughter and your son back; there is no need to frighten our guest. Kov, allow me to replace this kit, and I will take T'Dana and return her, as well. It is time for feeding and sleep."

Kov's arms felt illogically empty when the kit had been sent back to her mother's pouch.

"Now that you are more comfortable with my companions, young Kov, let us tend to the matter of nourishment. Do you prefer _plomik_ as broth, or soup? I have both and would find it most agreeable to honor your preference."

"I am fondest of the broth, Tavin. However, I have not eaten since before T'Khut rose in the sky and find now that I am quite hungry."

"Then I will bring soup, _kevlas_ toast, and _gaspar_. Will you take tea?" Tavin took up a small jar of scrubsand and cleansed his hands before passing the jar to Kov.

"Tea would be most welcome." Kov settled back into the chair; he hadn't noticed his fatigue, until now. But he had arisen yesterday expecting a typical day, rather than one that had included the new assignment to the Science Academy and the walking it had required of him, nor the additional excursion to and from the place in the rock.

"Perhaps sleep would be more welcome to you, young Kov."

He opened his eyes to find that Tavin was arranging a meal on the table between the couch where he had sat and Kov's seat. The _sehlat_ were not in the room now; Kov must have fallen asleep.

"There is nothing to forgive. You have given no offense. On the contrary, I am well pleased that you are at ease well enough to rest here. It will make the learning we will engage in much simpler a matter, and I find deep comfort in the presence of another Vulcan. My life has been empty, without my husband."

"I grieve with you, Tavin." Kov had spoken the words before, but never had they had this level of meaning. Perhaps it was that he had never before felt the pain of the other. In Tavin's openness, there was something of shared experience which most Vulcans kept well hidden behind an appropriately controlled demeanor. "It is agreeable that I am able to offer you some measure of solace in this difficult time."

"You have done more than that, young Kov. You have renewed my purpose. In tending to your needs and assisting you in learning the things you must learn to find Awakening to one who resists tolerable, I have new meaning in my own living. That is a thing of great value to me." Kov thought perhaps he should direct his focus elsewhere when Tavin's tears seemed to overwhelm his control yet again. But the other man was watching him directly. "Does it truly trouble you so, that I weep openly in this place? Even though we are alone, and you know the shape of my pain?"

Kov had no answer to give, yet he felt strongly that Tavin wanted one, and his generosity and compassion deserved a response.

He considered carefully. "I am – unused to such displays, Tavin. But I am not troubled. A better word would be unsettled. However, I find – value – in what you share of your emotions. I lack the ease with language to express it more completely, but there is a comfort here I am uncertain I have ever known. It seems most illogical, with the presence of four grown _sehlat_ nearby, but it is nonetheless true."

He was uncertain he had known the truth of the words until he spoke. Tavin, though, simply nodded. "Then please avail yourself of the food I've set forth. There is plenty; I've eaten little, these last days."

"Will you eat with me, Tavin?"


	15. And Touch the Flames

Tavin tipped his head slightly and studied Kov as though the answer was a matter of some difficulty.

"You must take sufficient nourishment to continue your work – and, if you will assist me in the learning you have said I must acquire, certainly you must have need of even more than your typical level of sustenance. Please, share this meal with me. I will find no comfort in it if I must eat alone."

"You make a most compelling case. Perhaps you would have made a fine counsel –"

"No." Kov had learned as a child that it was discourteous and illogical to speak into what another was saying; however, Tavin had done the same several times. Perhaps it wasn't a precept he followed.

"No?"

"No. I –" Again, Kov had no words for the certainty he felt. He struggled to find the means of expressing it, however, because of the way Tavin watched him so directly, as though what he would answer held the greatest importance. "I have difficulties in speaking to others. It's particularly noticeable if the group is larger than what might fit in a small chamber, or if my words are given the full attention of all present."

"I can see how that would make a career such as counsel undesirable. I also feel honored that you have been so willing to share conversation with me, young Kov, if it has been a matter of difficulty for you to do so. It was not evident in the manner of your delivery. Therefore I was unaware until you spoke to it."

"I have had little difficulty with you, Tavin. But you have taken our discussion from the question to which I seek an answer. Will you eat with me, and nourish yourself?"

"I concede, Counselor Kov. I will indeed eat with you." Tavin made the strange sound again; Kov was beginning to suspect that it was some manner of emotional response. Tavin seemed unconcerned with revealing his emotional states, and to feel perhaps more, and more swiftly, than Kov did.

It was intriguing.

He watched as Tavin set about serving the meal; perhaps he should help, but Tavin seemed to enjoy the process, and Kov was quite fatigued after the unexpected and unaccustomed level of activity.

Did he himself wish to feel so openly? Would Tavin be able to assist him in learning to identify his own emotions, so that he was not so often agitated by them?

"You seem to have gone somewhere else, Kov, although you remain seated as you were. Are you well?"

"I am – well enough." Tavin extended a plate, and Kov leaned forward to take it. Their fingers brushed, and Kov gasped out a breath, nearly dropping the offering. Tavin's gaze was searching, and he didn't move his hand, as though to offer Kov the opportunity to explore further.

Did he dare to do as T'Pol had done, and touch the flames?

He had done so with Koss, and it had been transformative. He was Awakened.

"It would not be the same to share such touching with me, Kov."

"How did you know?" He could think no further on it in this moment.

"That you wondered if it would be?"

Kov nodded slightly.

"I am quite sensitive to the emotional energy and thoughts of others," Tavin explained. "I had no intention of intruding, but your concerns were close to the surface, and impossible not to feel. I ask forgiveness if I have caused offense."

"You haven't. I – I have felt it too – the energy?" He wasn't at all certain that this was the best way to identify what he had felt with Koss, and since he encountered Tavin.

"I know. I was uncertain whether you did, however." Tavin's hand remained. "It is because I sensed this knowing in you that I revealed myself to you, and that I would assist you in learning – what it means to be Awakened, and how to develop your latent abilities. However, I will do neither unless it is wholly your choice, and you will still have the position of designing my grounds, and my friendship, no matter what choice you make."

Perhaps Kov should consider such an offer carefully, but his instincts and senses agreed that Tavin could be trusted and was likely to have information Kov had great personal need of. But there was more.

Tavin – _felt_ – more like a father than Sivet had in Kov's lifetime. This man, newly met, was interested in him as a being. Sivet seemed to view his son as nothing other than an inconvenient and inferior extension of himself, or perhaps as an unwelcome reminder of a marriage ended before he would wish.

"I would learn – all I am able – with you, Tavin." As he spoke, Kov realized that he might have inadvertently consented even to mating with the sehlat trainer. Would he welcome such an activity?

"Ah, you are yet so young, Kov. Before his first Burning, but after his Awakening, perhaps every young Vulcan is inordinately curious as regards mating. But such is a thing you should share by mutual consent, and preferably with someone who is not grieving another and too preoccupied with his own soulwounding to tend well to sharing in your discoveries. I am ill-prepared to attempt to provide for that portion of your learning – though, were the circumstances different, it would be a most pleasurable honor."

"I did not – " Kov stopped himself. If Tavin was as easily able to register thoughts while touching as it seemed, he would know at once that this was a mistruth. Koss had caused pain, but he had also given Kov a new awareness of how frequently he spoke mistruths – a skill he had learned under Sivet's raising. "Perhaps I considered it, but it isn't a thing I am prepared to learn now, Tavin."

"That is best, in my opinion. The learning we will do together is indeed of a most intimate nature and will enhance your experiences when the time for you to explore your sexuality arrives. I can prepare you for those explorations, that you may enjoy them and share confidently – whether your partner is your reluctant Intended, or another you have yet to recognize or even meet."

"I will accept your tutelage – and your advisement, though I don't believe Koss will be the one with whom I explore, or that he is my Intended."

"He can be nothing else, with you Awakened to him," Tavin said. "Nor can you be anything other to him, although it may take him far more time than you are willing to wait for him to realize this simple and incontrovertible fact. In the meantime, it might be more logical for us to set this conversation aside and attend to the matter of nourishing ourselves."


	16. Not Yet

The meal was passed in silence, as was the way among their people. And yet, whether logical or not, Kov had a sense that this was a deeper communion than any he had ever shared with another at such a time.

He didn't precisely understand it, but it might have something to do with the current he had felt when Tavin's fingers contacted his own. It seemed that something had passed between them, as it had between he and Koss. However, this thread was stronger, more flexible, and lacked the enticing nature of the other.

Kov wondered if this was a thing Tavin could explain. But he didn't know if he wished to ask, or to learn, or if he simply wished to experience what Tavin would choose to share with him and leave the rest to be discovered at a future time.

He was still debating this when they had both consumed all they required and risen together in silence to clear the meal. Kov stood back, still silently, watching as Tavin fed the sehlat.

"Young Kov, do you wish to begin your learning tonight, or in the morning, after you have rested?" Tavin tipped his head again, and again focused that direct regard upon Kov. What did it mean that he was becoming accustomed to it?

"I would begin now, Tavin. There is little chance I will rest well, with the events of the last hours so new to my mind. Meditation has been unattainable since Koss first revealed his interest in exploring the attraction between us." Perhaps it was discourteous to speak these private matters to Tavin, but there was a settling feeling in doing so. And Koss had not allowed the opportunity to ask him whether he would find such a revelation, made in such a context, troubling.

Kaiidth. What is, is.

"It is unlikely that meditation would be accessible to anyone, after such a series of events, Kov. The souldwounding makes finding the necessary calm – a challenge, if indeed it's possible at all. **However, the session we will undertake** will help you to regain your equilibrium. If we repeat it several times over the next week, or perhaps two, you may find that you gradually become more able to assume the proper state of consciousness in which meditation can be practiced. You may also find the sharing beneficial and pleasurable in and of itself. However, if you do not, or you discover you are instead troubled by any of the arts we practice together, you must not hesitate to inform me immediately."

Tavin's voice took on a deeper quality with the last pronouncement, so that he sounded more typically Vulcan than he had since Kov first encountered him. It suggested things he didn't understand.

"Why must I?"

"Because there are consequences to forcing such types of sharing, Kov – or in sharing so when one partner is resistant. There must never be coercion in such proceedings." He stopped and sipped his tea, but his regard remained fixed upon Kov. "I would have no harm come to you as the result of this activity, Kov. You have given new purpose to my existence and offered an alternative to my solitude and grief. I wish only to assist you in your Awakening, and prepare you for the living to come. So, if there is discomfort, or if, at any point in our exploration, you simply wish to cease – speak to it at once. Do not delay; do not fear causing offense."

"I will heed your warnings, Tavin, and alert you at once to any distress I might feel." Kov was still uncomfortable at the direct regard, but he returned it. If this was a matter of importance to Tavin, he would honor it to the best of his abilities.

"Then we will begin once our tea has been finished." Tavin settled as inscrutably as Sivet, although with much more …. Kov searched for a word and could only find "openness." He was uncertain that it was the proper expression for the moment, but he could do no better in this moment.

He sipped his tea and attempted to prepare himself for whatever would come to pass between them.

In moments that seemed to stretch into hours in a different, less altering way than Koss' presence had, last night, they had both set aside their drinking bowls. "Let us begin, then," Kov said. There had been far too much of waiting in these last days, and far too little that was easily understood. It made for a rather unsettling reality he wished now to shift.

"As you wish. Come, I have a chamber that will meet all of our needs."

Kov rose, and followed his host to a small room, hung with draperies in soothing reds. "This was the place my husband and I conducted our sharings and our meditation, when we practiced together. You are sensitive, Kov, and you may well perceive – resonances – of those sharings, and my memories. If you do, and they become troubling, there are other spaces we may employ."

"This one is most comforting to you, isn't it?" Kov needed no answer from Tavin. "You are providing me with a service I might be able to receive from no other. I would have you do so in comfort. If you might also remember the times you shared here with your cherished, it seems an additional benefit to your healing, and will perhaps also assist me, for I am certain now that I have been far too isolated in my living, and too devoid of those connections which might have precluded my Awakening to one who desires me not – or who will not accept his desire for me, which might be a far less pleasant circumstance."

"You are wiser than many who have lived so few years, Kov. Come, then. There is a brief ritual – we will light the candles, together, each beginning at one end of the room, and moving nearer. We will light them together, in synchrony, and when we meet at the table in the chamber's center, that candle we will light at the same time, as one, to begin the moving-together of minds necessary for this sharing."

Kov only nodded; there seemed no need to speak. He could feel the presence of Tavin's husband in this space, and the deeply affectionate connection the two men had shared. It was akin to what he had hoped to build with Koss, before Koss had withdrawn from him as though, in doing so, he had ended any emotions he felt for Kov.

There was reassurance in the resonances of this room, and of two men who had found their way to one another and created a life for themselves here. It was deeply moving to light the candles Tavin's husband had once lit, to move with Tavin as his husband once had, to pace himself and feel the drawing-closer Tavin had mentioned. He could feel his breath and awareness shifting, becoming something more in tune with his companion's.

They reached the center of the room, and the low table with its single thick pillar waiting there to provide a focal point for the activities to come.

"How do we proceed?"

Tavin moved to the far side of the table. "Perhaps, eventually, there will be no need for a barrier between us, Kov. But, as we begin, I wish you to be comforted, and gently brought into your Awareness of these forms of sharing. So I will kneel here, and you there, and the table will serve as the boundary."

Together, they knelt. Together, they moved their igniting devices to the single thick wick at the candle's center, and, at a slight nod from Tavin, lit it.

Tavin's face was softened by candlelight, making it seem younger and less troubled than it had been. The corners of his mouth curved upward, and there was something in that simple shifting of muscle that seemed to invite Kov into something he didn't yet understand, but would, if he but accepted the offer.

"Young Kov, you are most beautiful in firelight. Almost, you make me regret that I am not young as you are, and newly come to my understanding of who I am and whom I desire. Were it different, for us both, I could take great pleasure in mating with you, if it was a thing you desired, as well." He drew a long breath, held it, and released. "Forgive an old and grieving man his illogic, Kov."

"I would mate with you, if you desire it, Tavin." The words came in a rush, and Kov felt his blood diffuse across his skin. It was a pleasurable sensation. "As I have nothing with which to compare it, I would find pleasure, and offer you the solace of something that holds much meaning to you."

Tavin's breath sharpened. "You offer more than you know, young one. And it is difficult to refuse such an offer, from one who makes it so willingly."

" **Then do not, Tavin."**

"No, Kov. Not yet. Perhaps not at all."

"Why not?" Kov's emotions surged; he wanted the encounter more than he had suspected. To have it taken from him before he had the chance to explore it – "I don't simply offer because you are soulwounded, Tavin. I – desire – this experience. I desire you. I am drawn to you."

"But not in the way you are to your mysterious Intended, young Kov. And because of that, I must refuse you, though I share your desires."

"I see no reason that one has any bearing upon the other. I have told you – Koss wishes to erase what was forged between us. He doesn't wish to be Awakened to me, or for me to be Awakened to him. He has not said so, but I believe he will still marry his Promised, T'Pol."

"The infant who dared to touch the flame? She who is sisterkin to Soval?"

"The same. You have heard of her?"

"I was operating the aircar which carried her to the hospital to be treated for her wounds. She was a most determined child; she gave the impression that, had there been another flame within her reach, she would have found the means to complete whatever experiment she had been thwarted in. In no way did she wish to be treated for her injuries. I advised against the hospital, but her determination seems to be honestly acquired through her maternal line. T'Les would not be dissuaded." Tavin paused, then added, "She seems a poor choice of wife for one who would initiate such an experiment as your Intended performed, and then attempt to hide from the results."

"Do you believe that's what Koss is doing?" 

"It seems most likely. But perhaps he is simply seeking to avoid grave difficulties. There are families who choose not to accept that some children grow to adulthood in ways that make them wholly unsuitable to be mates to their Promised. Ours is not a perfect system, though it functions well enough for most of our people. But there are those who, however illogically, would choose to believe that it is without flaws."

"If Koss' family is one of those, he could perhaps do nothing other." Kov was unsure whether he found solace in that thought, or agitation. Perhaps some of both, even though such a paradox seemed most illogical.

"There are always possibilities. It would be a mistake to assume there are none, in this case. There is always the Challenge. Often, those such as us, be they male or female, will speak to their Promised and ask that they choose a champion they could develop an affection for. Once the Challenge is called, the challenged simply declines, and both are free to choose as they will. Although some family members will assume there is shame in it, I hold that there is far less than what is created when there is nothing of attraction between those who were Promised in childhood. But we are not here to speak on such things. Let us leave Koss and T'Pol outside this chamber. There is much for you to learn, young Kov, and much we can share without mating. When you have learned all I have to share with you, and had time to consider, and perhaps to speak again to your Koss, if you wish, you will have the ability to make your choices in the fulness of knowledge."

Kov still wished that Tavin would lift all requirements, so they could explore this new reality together. But it wasn't a new reality to the older man; he was grieving the loss of his husband.

Tavin was grieving.

That alone was enough to allow him to set his own desires aside. One so newly alone, without his lifemate – Kov would not choose to make the transition any more difficult than it already was. He wished to be a comfort to Tavin, and perhaps a companion until he was well enough to know what he would choose next. Against that, this sudden attraction was a small thing, easily put aside to be considered at a later time – or perhaps, not at all.

"It will be my honor to learn from you, Tavin. It's my hope that there will also be healing in it for your pain."

"There will, young Kov. That much is certain; there already has been a great deal. Now, we have lit the candle, and we have spoken to the things that distracted. We begin with a simple breathing technique…."

The time flowed strangely, after that. Later, in a chamber Tavin had given him for his own, Kov tried and failed to remember the precise sequence of events. It was indistinct and unfocused, but it had not felt so at the time. They had begun with the candles, and then there was conversation – but he couldn't remember precisely what had been discussed between them. Then there had been breathing, and some form of touching and a sharing of the minds. These were blended together, becoming more than it seemed there had been time for. Kov was uncertain precisely what had occurred; only that something within him was beginning to change.

What the nature of the changes were, and how they would affect him in the rest of his living, Kov could not ascertain. Perhaps he wasn't intended to. It might be that the effects weren't easily quantified. It was equally possible that he would only understand the changes when they had accumulated. Tavin had said that they would have further sessions after they had both rested, and eaten, if he wished them.

He sat cross-legged upon the floor cushion in this comfortable space, staring into the candle Tavin had suggested that he bring from the chamber they had shared. "Keep it in good faith. Meditate if you are able or make the attempt if you wish. Or simply use it as you will."

He was not precisely meditating, but he was closer than he had come to that state since he had scented Koss' arousal scent upon the air, and his life's course had been altered. Only now did he realize to what extent that was true. Yesterday, he had thought himself on an exploration to learn only why this man's scent had affected him so, when T'Sia's had evoked sensations of illness.

He had not intended to Awaken to anyone.

He had not known it was possible for him to Awaken to another male.

He had fully intended to marry T'Sia in the next cycle of Eridani 40, as had been arranged at their Promising.

 **Everything had changed. There could be no returning to what had come before.**


	17. Only This Far

Kov had three more sessions with Tavin over the next day. Between, he spent time with T'Dana as her mother would allow, rested, ate, and meditated. It was a relief to be able to find the peace and non-attachment of meditation once more. When he had first scented Koss, and been unable to find the meditative state, he had feared he would be unable to do so again.

"It is only the initial shock that causes this, Kov, and the overwhelming nature of Awakening. It's why Seclusion is honored by those who take a husband or a wife. The year spent together, apart from others and the commitments that existed before the union, allow time for the Awakening to proceed as it is intended, and to deepen the bonding."

"But Koss does not want to be Awakened to me, nor for me to be Awakened to him. Nor can I marry T'Sia as arranged."

"These are valuable matters to consider in your meditations, Kov. I can tell you nothing of what you should do, for I am not you." The _sehlat_ trainer smiled – that was the Terran name for the upturning arc of his mouth, Kov had learned. "However, I can be here. It will be my honor to serve you as support, to share the raising of T'Dana with you, and to provide a space where you need not concern yourself with other matters, if you choose not to do so."

"I am grateful and honored." The current of attraction that had formed between them was intensifying. Kov found it – deeply pleasurable. It didn't carry the urgency of his Awakening to Koss, but, perhaps, in time, if Tavin chose to allow it, it would become something more, and there would be learning and solace in that, as well. Kov didn't need Tavin to speak to it to know that it was so.

"Assisting you is my honor, Kov. You have given purpose and life that were absent from this place, and from my soul. When you are able, and we begin together the work of reshaping this land to serve my needs, you will have provided even greater service."

"I will assess my schedule. I intend to work in my office over the next two days. It is shared space with Koss, and I would choose to be there only when he is not, until I have had the opportunity to speak with T'Sia on the topic of our marriage. I would have her choose a champion, if she will."

"In such cases, some still choose to honor their marriage contracts. Often, arrangements can be made that allow both partners to enjoy the stability of the original arrangement, while also bonded to mates who truly satisfy their personal requirements."

Kov shook his head slightly. "I see nothing in what I know of T'Sia to suggest that she could accept such an arrangement. Nor can I. No, Tavin. She is my closest associate. We have been connected since our births, or nearly so. I would not choose for her to live a life that isn't in keeping with what she most desires – a husband, and children. Perhaps she has already Awakened to another. Her scent has shifted, these last months –"

"And if she has Awakened to you, Kov?" The question was gentle, but Tavin's face suggested it merited serious consideration. "If you are more than Promised, but truly companions, it is quite likely that she has indeed done so."

Kov did not wish to consider that possibility. That he could not be what T'Sia would need of him was troubling. But it would be far more so if there was not another who could take his place in her affections, one who could be for her what she needed in a husband in a way that Kov now knew he could not. "If she has, Tavin, I don't know what I will do next."

"Perhaps you could ask her to come with you when you next visit. I can advise her and assist her to finding other possibilities she might explore. However, it is quite likely, given your closeness, that she has also perceived your differences, even if she has no conscious understanding of them, and Awakened, as you did, to someone more suited to her own nature."

"If she has, and her Intended will serve as her champion, I will decline the challenge happily, and support their marriage in any way I am able. I would see her happy in her living, Tavin."

"Your affection for this young woman is strong."

"My affection is perhaps that of a brother for a sister. Since I have no siblings, I can't be certain, but that is the sense I have of our connection. If she has the same, perhaps she does have a champion, or would have if she didn't think choosing one would lead to my death, or his."

Tavin offered the calming _ouz'hesta_ , and Kov met it. The current of awareness carried the older man's concern, his caring, and the tracings of the lingering desire that was blended with his great grief. "You may consider this a home, Kov. The _sehlat_ know and accept you. You may come whenever you have the need or the desire to do so, and they will welcome you, even if I am not here. If you are troubled after you meet with your Promised, let this place be a sanctuary where you may feel as you do, and express it as you will, with no fear of recrimination."

Kov released the _ouz'hesta_ , bowed, and made salute. Perhaps it was illogical to employ all three parting gestures, but it seemed appropriate to all that Tavin had offered. Far more so than any attempt to find words to speak to what they had shared and might share.

Tavin returned the salute with a small smile, and Kov chose to keep that as the memory of their parting. He turned and walked away, resuming his course to the city. He would go to the shared office and work. It would be a means of centering himself in the reality of his life, both what had been, and what was. Perhaps, this was not the time to consider what might be.

Let him use this breath as well as he was able, and then the next, and the one after that. In that manner, it would soon be time to speak to T'Sia. Only that.

He would not think of Koss, what they had shared, or what he longed to share with the young architect. He would return here and attend to his work. There was a need to walk the grounds at night; it would be calming to do so after the unexpected chaos of the last days.

His mind made an effort to go beyond that point, but Kov stilled it. No. Only this far. The work, and then speaking with T'Sia. Then coming to walk the grounds.

Kov told himself that – but it was unaccountably difficult to order his mind. It kept escaping the controls he attempted to set upon it and taking up other things. Memories of the night in the cave chamber, with Koss' eyes lit by candlelight. The way T'Dana's fur felt against his hand, or his cheek. Tavin, smiling and crying, and unconcerned by either being visible to others. T'Khut, Watching as Koss first invited, and then rejected.


	18. What of Him?

Kov neared the place where he had first encountered Tavin, still uncertain whether he wished to see Koss again or learn more about him. What purpose would either serve, if the architect didn't want to accept the Awakening between them? He had thought, before he met Tavin, and found an acceptance that came with no cost other than his presence, that he would use the time and the shared office space to urge Koss to reconsider.

But why should he need to do this? It was Koss who had come to him. Though he had been drawn to sit and watch the other man, Kov would not have chosen to intrude upon him. Koss had suggested the touching. He'd known the way of it. The memory was still alive within Kov's mind, the remembered sensations causing his heart and breathing rates to accelerate.

Koss had said he had never touched another so; now Kov was uncertain whether he could trust that the other man had told him the truth. It was not an untruth to omit; but an omission was a form of dishonesty, in a situation such as this.

Had Koss been dishonest with him?

But Kov had the answer already, in the way Koss had invited him to explore their Awakening, but then refuted his own motives and interest, withdrawing precisely when everything that was in both of them was singing for a deeper, more permanent joining.

There was dishonesty in that. It wasn't omission; it was subversion.

Koss had known the point beyond which he would not go, and he hadn't indicated it in any way while he was guiding the nature of their sharing.

Koss's deceptive approach was undesirable. Almost, Kov wished that he had not been Awakened to such a man, that a part of him didn't, even in this moment, orient toward Koss, and yearn still to deepen what had begun between them.

However, that Awakening had revealed an answer he had sought without understanding that he was seeking, and there was value in that. Even if that Awakening withered into a hollow promise, there was a deep benefit in knowing himself in this new way.

He could now spare T'Sia the grief of a husband who could never desire her, even in the depths of his Burning. If she would but choose a champion for the _kal-if-fee_ , or even a consort to be for her what he could not, she could pass her life in the manner she most wished, with children and a partner for all parts of her life.

But what of him?

If he could not have Koss, would he die when the Burning took him?


	19. Of A Different Nature

Kov stared at the monitor screen, but he was seeing only what was within his mind – moments from the last two days. His memory flowed into each thought, filling his awareness with the feel of Koss' fingertips against his own; the comfort of Tavin's meditative space; the scent of Koss and fresh water upon the desert air…

The scent of Koss and their mingled arousal in this space, where they had passed hours that seemed the prelude to something more, something Kov could only guess at.

He blinked, but the script before him would not resolve into any pattern he recognized.

Was this to be his life now? How would he be able to perform his duties, with this distraction as companion? Tavin had said the reason for Seclusion was to prevent just such occasions from interfering with one's occupation, and that it might be necessary for him to claim his right to it.

Kov had been certain he could return to his work, but this distraction indicated that he might be incorrect. It might be most logical to wait until his mind wasn't so full of new experiences, knowledge, and frustrations. If he attempted to continue, he would be required to share this space with Koss in two days.

That further distraction would adversely affect his work, and possibly also his conversation with T'Sia. That was a matter that must be considered, for he could claim no Seclusion where she was concerned. He must be certain she understood that he couldn't be what she would have of a husband, ever, and that this inability on his part was nothing of her doing, and nothing either of them could alter. He must ascertain whether she was willing to choose a champion, or, if she was not, that she understood she must choose a consort, as must he, before the Burning came, and left them both raving for matings they couldn't share.

But first, he must assure her that she would ever be his cherished, and, were he only of a different nature, there would have been nothing he could wish more than to be to her a husband of her deserving.

 _Kaiidth._ He could not be else, nor could she.

He must therefore give her the greatest amount of time he was able, so she could make another match if she wished.

A match. Was that what Koss had become, in his own mind? Did he wish to marry Koss, bond and mate with him? Perhaps create a family with him?

And what of Koss?

What would Koss have of him? Was there anything, beyond the confirmation that Kov had Awakened to him?

Kov had no answers for these questions. However, it seemed that, if he truly did desire the other man in that way, that he would be certain of it. Until her scent had shifted, he had been quite certain that he wished to marry T'Sia.

"You never believed there was a choice, or even gave consideration to the fact that there might be one." Kov startled at the sound of his voice in the small chamber.

He would find no answers here. Nor would he be likely to accomplish any more than he had till this point – his personal device was devoid of the drawings and lists that informed the earliest stages of his work. Perhaps he should return home, and rest – but there was too great a chance, at this hour, that he would encounter Sivet. Kov was quite certain that to do so in this emotional state would be an error he could not easily rectify, once made.

Still, the office was oppressive, and it smelled too strongly of Koss and shared desire.

Kov could not work in that scent; perhaps it was the catalyst for the memories that continued to arise to the surfaces of thought, though he would have them wait beneath.

He took up the portable device and went outside to walk the grounds. He would await the coming of dark, because he must take night into account when designing for a space that would be used as part of a residential facility.

Though the memory of Koss' scent remained within him, there was not enough of it here to trouble him. At last, Kov was able to focus on this project's initial design. If he continued at this pace he would be able to return to the main compound in another two days. He had several smaller projects nearing completion. Once those matters had been tended, perhaps he should request a period of Seclusion. None would question it, even if it meant this work must be assumed by another. Seclusion was at the silent unspoken heart of what it was to be Vulcan.

But where would he pass Seclusion, if he chose to take it? Sivet's home could not provide the peace he needed to absorb the happenings of the last days – or any of his days, to this point in his life.

Perhaps he could go to Tavin's home. No one knew he was acquainted with the _sehlat_ trainer; there was no reason to expect that Kov would know such a person. If he had not gone with Koss to the place where the cleft in the rock opened, and had Koss not refused him, he would not have met him at all.

There was peace and safety in Tavin's company. T'Dana was there, and there was worthy work to be tended to in the designing of his training facility.

There was also the possibility that he and Tavin would mate.

It was that thought which set Kov's course of action. Illogical, perhaps, but Tavin had told him that the centers for Awakening, and those for sexual activity, were closely connected. It was quite likely that, Awakened and denied by Koss, he couldn't function on a wholly logical level. Perhaps he would not until he mated, or the unfulfilled link to Koss was either severed or sated with completion.

Tavin would understand where others could not. More, he might provide an answer, however imperfect, for the desire to mate. That thought settled Kov, and prompted a strong desire to work, so that he might be free to return to Tavin's home.

Kov found a place where the sun's approach of the terminus was particularly aesthetically pleasing to him, and settled upon the ground, the drawing device in his lap. He worked quickly, occasionally flipping through the device's files for the specifics Koss had given on the building these grounds would encompass.

Once he'd decided on his plan, the work was done quickly. He was Awakened, and Tavin had said that a surge in creative energy was to be expected. It was as well – this would allow Kov to finish his planning before the rest of the design team resumed their work, and project orders were prepared. If he was done quickly enough, he might even be able to tend to the other matters and request his Seclusion before Koss returned to the office.

Kov considered the steps he would need to complete to enact that plan, as Eridani 40 appeared to drop in the sky. Gradually, a question arose within him.

Did he want to see Koss?

Had his plan, last night, not been to remain away only until he had spoken to T'Sia, and learned what she would have him do? Had he not been intent on being with Kov in the office, after?

When had his intent shifted?

But there was no need to ask himself that. He need only attend to his own thoughts. Koss was there; he was unlikely not to be with the Awakening extant between them. But Koss had given little of himself, where Tavin had given far more than any Vulcan Kov had ever known. His residence might not be as a home to him as yet, but it felt so to Kov. Nowhere else had he found the peace to simply be as he was, with nothing required of him.


	20. As Swiftly As Was Possible

Tavin drew him. He knew he drew Tavin, as well – but the sehlat trainer was not as willing to conceal things as Koss. He wouldn't mate with Kov now. Perhaps he never would – but he had been honest about the refusal, as well as his desires.

Honesty appealed to Kov far more than its opposite. Perhaps that was enough to dissuade him from any interest in pursuing a deepening of his Awakening, or of considering Koss his Intended.

He could not marry T'Sia – but, as far as he knew, Koss still planned to marry T'Pol.

Would the woman who had grown from the infant who had dared to touch the flame be best pleased by such dishonesty in a husband? Or would Koss be capable of mating with her? If there were those who were drawn to their opposite gender, and those drawn to their own, there must logically also be those who were drawn to both.

Was Koss one of these? Could he form the same type of Awakened state with his Promised that he had with Kov? If so, would he inform the woman of the other Awakening, one to a member of his own gender? Kov found that unlikely, but perhaps Koss would be more honest in the sanctioned pairing than in the accidental one.

If he revealed it to T'Pol, would he do so before their wedding, or wait until the contract had been entered into? There would surely be at least a denial of her right to choose for herself in that, and Kov thought that there was a caution of sorts in his own uncertainty as to what Koss would say to T'Pol, if anything, and when he would speak to it, if he did.

Tavin had offered him a place, information not tied to any obligation, and honesty. He had tended to Kov even when his own grief was so fresh, and he hadn't hidden his pain or his joy. He had opened his home and his mind willingly.

Perhaps they would never be more than close associates, but Kov was certain, in this moment, that it was Tavin he wished to be with, in whatever way they would choose to be together. The man chance met upon the desert was the superior companion, even without an Awakening.

The realization was somehow settling. Tavin had need of someone to design the spaces for his sehlats to be safely contained, and yet have the freedom of movement they needed for health and contentment.

In order to be able to offer this service in an expedient manner, Kov must complete the work that could not be delayed.

That required that he shift his focus from the changes in his personal circumstances to tending to the matters that must be tended to in order to bring those projects to completion, or at least to a point at which he could set them aside.

He must work quickly and efficiently, with no moment wasted in considerations about which, at this point, he could do nothing.

Logically, thoughts of Koss and Tavin had no place in his this process. He must focus on the work, and nothing other.

Kov breathed deeply three times, holding each breath and pausing between. He allowed all other thoughts and considerations to flow from him, and, with the inbreaths, he drew concentration and energy from his surroundings, so that he would be able to remain awake until he had completed his required work and could request time for Seclusion.

He would break for meals only when he needed them, and to speak to T'Sia at the earliest opportunity, so that she would have the greatest time possible to arrange things for her own satisfaction.

Otherwise, he would tend to his duties. The office was there and would be empty for two days. When Koss returned, it would make little difference, for Kov had an objective that didn't include the architect. All he needed of Koss would be the plans for the structure he would build in the space, and he could request those through their business' internal messaging system, without the necessity of speaking to his Awakened.

Kov set to work, sketching ideas upon the personal device, adding notes as they occurred to him, in a manner Sivet had referred to as highly erratic, inefficient, and illogical, but which, to Kov, captured elements such as the quality of light and the aesthetics of the surroundings with an immediacy more logical, systematic approaches could not.

By the time the terminus hid Eridani 40 from view, Kov had thirty-two discrete files, each containing notes and sketches from various locations within the space. His vision of incorporating the philosophy of Kol-Ut-Shan was becoming the beginnings of a plan, with contrasting areas of sand, stone, and plantings that would both complement and contrast. Light and shadow could be employed to minimize the effect in some areas and enhance it in others.

But it wasn't enough to account for the conditions during the later parts of the afternoon and the beginning of night. He must explore the light of Eridani 40 through all its hours, and the effects of T'Khut's phases and relative positions in the night sky, as well.

There was a good deal of work left to be tended to, but he would remain here in the area of the new landscaping until he had seen Eridani 40 resume the position it had occupied when he first came to experience it. He would need to return before T'Khut became visible each night until the Watcher had completed her cycle, but he would have the daylight hours to pursue other portions of the project, or one of the others he had been assigned.

It would be beneficial to create a schedule that could accommodate all that was needed, but he didn't have all the information he required on this portable device, so Kov set that as a reminder. He would attend to the schedule when he returned to the office, where his terminal could connect him with the progress on his other assignments.

He would arrange all so that he could work on whichever would yield the greatest result in any moment. He would make that his purpose, so that he could come to Tavin as swiftly as was possible.


	21. A A Single Irrefutable Message

Hello, all!

Sorry for the delay getting this chapter up - the beginning of the new year brought new goals and focuses. One of them was the approach of the first anniversary of my husband's death (today is "the day"). I found it increasingly hard to put my attention on fan fiction, but now that we've gotten to this point, I feel freer, somehow.

I still will probably only get a chapter or two up a week for a while. I've got several online writing courses I'm finishing this year, and I just accepted a part-time reporting job. I also have three mainstream novels I want to finish drafting, and both an anthology and a poetry collection I plan to pull together...

And I'm still the now-single mom of two teens... 

* * *

The thought of Tavin set a slight quiver in his fingertips – and a most surprising reaction in his stavrit. That had never occurred, even with Koss. Perhaps it meant something –

But this was not the time to explore that possibility. Tavin wasn't here, and Kov wanted to go to him with the freedom to give his attention to the project of making the property he had purchased a proper home for Tavin and his sehlats – and possibly also for himself, as Tavin had said it was to be his home as well, if that was his choice.

He gave himself fully to the work, suppressing the unusual sensations. His fingers were particularly sensitized, and despite their slight trembling, they were adept and allowed him to work steadily. The thirty-two files had swelled to forty-seven before dawn came, and sixty-one at zenith. From dawn onward, there were students, and Kov found that most edifying, as he could study the way they moved across this space, and the patterns of the traffic. Natural resting places were suggested, both along the main, secondary, and tertiary routes, but also in other areas, where visitors could go to meditate, or to allow the view to provide aesthetic pleasure, rest, or perhaps inspiration fortheir work or meditation.

None of the students seemed troubled by the stranger wandering among them or standing where they must move around him. All were purposeful, focused on their own activities.

That was something he would change, if he was able to do so. He would build in areas where greater numbers could congregate – perhaps for musical performances, to listen to speakers, or simply for communal exercise.

The sixty-one files were ninety by the time he had spent an entire day's passage. Kov became aware of his hunger, and a desire to cleanse himself. He accessed the nightly record of T'Khut's rising; he had three point two six eight hours. He went first to the office, where he copied all the files to his interface, where they would be automatically categorized and ordered for his use. While there, he used the simple replication device and consumed a simple meal of plomik broth and pok tar. He sipped tea as he accessed the files for his other projects, putting these on his portable device as well, so he could devise a schedule in the moments he didn't have observations on these grounds.

There was a small comfort chamber attached to the office; he could procure a bag from Sivet's home, and have what he needed to periodically cleanse the sandy grit from his body, and clothing to wear when he was inside the office for any length of time. Perhaps Koss might perceive such an addition to the space as something of preparation to return to his chamber within the cleft cliff, and perhaps it would have been, if there had been no withdrawal.

But there had been, and with it had come a wounding. Had Koss also experienced it? Had he known it would be the result of his refusal to accept their Awakening? If so, he had been far better prepared than Kov. Were it not for Tavin, KOv would have remained hollowed and emptied of what had seemed so close when their fingers and souls were dancing.

Whether Koss knew, or did not, he had withdrawn. He had been dishonest, where Tavin hadn't. Therefore, Kov wouldn't or his hidden chamber or dancing fingers that withdrew precisely when the music demanded the greatest level of sharing. Koss might think of the travel bag what he would; Kov would make no clarification on any personal matter to the architect.

Decided, he returned to Sivet's home, using the side entrance closest to his own rooms. With relief, he noted that Sivet was not in the common areas. He had apparently followed his typical custom of spending the evenings in Shi'kahr proper, or perhaps at the Academy, attending lectures or viewing art, both pastimes that often occupied him, and which he would prefer Kov to take a greater interest in.

Kov had never told his father that it was precisely Sivet's desire that he attend that prevented his developing that interest. It was difficult to be in his father's presence; there were always expectations that Sivet didn't express but which remained, unspoken and unmet. Kov couldn't meet them by his nature, and he didn't comprehend what they were well enough to attempt to shift his inclinations toward a more acceptable course in Sivet's perception.

Once, as a child, he had asked, in frustration he was not yet adept enough to suppress, "What is it that you want from me, Father? What is it that would make me acceptable to you, rather than an unwanted obligation?"

Sivet had turned from him in that moment, and, thereafter, he had seldom willingly been in Kov's company.

He had learned the lesson well. He was not to speak to the lacks in their relationship, or his own inability to lessen them. He was simply to accept that this was the way of their connection, and wish nothing other than what Sivet offered, if he offered anything more than shelter and access to learning.

But Kov hadn't been able to abide by those requirements, and also be in Sivet's presence any moment he was not specifically required to be so. It had been that way since before his Kahs-wan trial, and he had no expectation that it would ever be otherwise.

He was uncertain he would ever want it to.

He went to his chamber, and selected enough clothing to afford him three complete changes, as well as the essential items he would need to ensure he was presentable when he needed to meet with others –

Or when Koss was in the office.

Yes, illogical as it seemed, it was a matter he considered. Likewise, and far more logically, what he would wear when he went to speak with T'Sia. She had selected several robes for him, beginning when they were completing their primary education. She gave them as gifts, because, she said, he had little patience for such things, and no mother to see that he had clothing that suited him in more than comfort. Kov was uncertain he understood what more there was to the selection, but her choices were comfortable, and it seemed to bring her pleasure to do this small service for him, and so he allowed it and accepted each item she offered, incorporating them into his wardrobe.

She was especially fond of the sand-colored robes that fit more closely than the others. He would wear those for her, and, when the conversation had ended between them, he would ask her whether she wished him to return the items she had given, as she would no longer be his Intended – or, if she would wish to gift them to a consort.

If she did not, perhaps Koss would find the sand-colored garments as appealing as T'Sia did.

It was illogical to wish it so, but Tavin had said that Awakening had a logic of its own, one that wasn't tied to the traditional intellectual forms, but to something "both deeper and truer." Still, that didn't explain why the thought of Tavin brought a mental image of him seeing Kov in those robes, reaching out to touch them, unfasten them –

The tremor passed through his entire body, and remained in fingertips and stavrit, as though it intended to deliver a single, irrefutable message.


	22. A Most Illogical Conundrum

I've been away longer than I intended, dealing with a botched plumbing repair. My apologies for my absence here, where I meant to offer a chapter a week.

Hopefully I can resume doing that from this point forward. 

* * *

What did it mean, that he was Awakened to Koss, but desired Tavin with such force? Was it a failing in himself? In what he and Koss shared? Or was it a simple matter of Koss' refusal to open to what existed between them, and Tavin's willingness to share so deeply of himself, asking for and accepting nothing in return but Kov's presence?

Kov touched the garment, and his mind formed new questions. It seemed to do a great deal of that, since he'd followed the scent upon the air, and there seemed to be no means by which he could discover the answers to any of the queries that so unsettled him.

Or, more accurately, no means beyond the melding and sharing with Tavin.

These questions centered around Tavin. What might have happened, had he not scented Koss yesterday morning, and been compelled to follow the scent? What if he had chanced to meet Tavin first?

Would he have instead Awakened to the older man?

If he had, would Tavin accept him in all ways – including mating? Would the barrier that now existed between them have never formed?

"These are foolish questions, Kov. They don't deal in what is, or even in what might be possible. You are Awakened to Koss, and you did not meet Tavin first. Therefore, there is no point in speculating upon what might have occurred if reality didn't happen as it did. To this question, there can be no answer. Not today, and not ever."

Kov couldn't argue with the logic of his own statement. It was unassailable. However, knowing the truth of it seemed to have no effect upon his mind's willingness to imagine a different outcome, one that avoided the undesirable reality of being Awakened so newly to a man who had no interest in their joining, when what he wanted was to be Awakened to the one man who had accepted him outright.

The thoughts refused to be suppressed. Given the choice, Kov would awaken to Tavin, and not Koss.

What would he choose to do, if Koss decided to open himself to their Awakening? Would that change the certainty that he was wrongly Awakened? Would he be as drawn to Koss as he had been when he followed him into the cleft in the rocky cliff wall?

Did he want to be?

Could he trust Koss? It was a matter of some importance. What he had learned from Tavin suggested a certain vulnerability to the process of Awakening. He had felt it last night, when Koss had retreated from him. The harm, if Tavin was to be believed, could grow much deeper, if their joining deepened. It was said to be possible, even, that one could die, if rejected by an Awakened of long standing to whom one was deeply attached.

Perhaps it was dangerous to trust Koss, now or ever.

But, if that were so, what would become of Kov? Awakening was intended to prepare one for mating and bonding. He was distrustful of his Intended, who didn't wish to be Awakened to him. He desired and was deeply drawn to a man who was not his Awakened, and whom he might never be able to mate with.

It was a most illogical conundrum in which to find himself, no less so because he had had no awareness that any of these circumstances were possible when he woke yesterday.

"But this is your reality now, Kov. Kaiidth. What is, is. Surrender to the reality, and perhaps the way forward will become clear."

He committed to that path, although he was uncertain how he would accomplish it.

Kov went into his comfort chamber and cleansed himself with fine sand. It removed the dust and grit from his skin, but did nothing to ease the unsettled feeling. Perhaps he must accept that, as well, if he was to return to state of balance.

He dressed in a simple set of dark robes which would allow him to blend into the landscape, become as a part of it so passersby would neither be disturbed by his presence or inclined to interact with him.

He was preparing his bag when he first heard the sound.

It was muffled, as though coming from a great distance, though the house was not large.

Kov tipped his head and listened.

Again, he heard it. Did it sound almost like someone calling his name? He listened, not drawing breath.

It came a third time. Yes. It was his name, and the speaker was located at the other end of the house, where Sivet had his chamber and his office.

But Sivet never called for him. Even when Kov was small, the instances of his father having any interest in him or his activities were rare enough to draw immediate notice when they occurred.

What did it mean, if his father called for him now?

Again the sound – and, this time, a note of– fear? Distress? Anger?

None of these were in keeping with Sivet's basic traits. Only once in all the years of his living had he heard Sivet lose control of his emotions.

That experience had been intense enough that Kov was now required to suppress the drive to hide, or to leave the structure as quickly and silently as was possible.

The cry came again, and there was something more animal in it. Kov repressed the escape impulses and left his chamber.

Again the cry. Why should it sound fainter, when he had moved closer, and removed several barriers?

A sound that was no longer language, and too weak to be considered a cry. It was coming from Sivet's study. Had his father's experimentation yielded unexpected and injurious results?

"Sivet?"

He floated the word softly and quietly, still almost afraid to know what had happened. He'd never been allowed into Sivet's room, even to his earliest memories. He'd long suspected Sivet used the space to hide from him, and the biological connection that linked them.

He almost hoped Sivet would send him away.


End file.
